Blood Knights
by Strawberry Alacrity
Summary: Aleinia wanted a normal life sometimes. What she got was a trainer she's head-over-heels for, watching her comrade be killed, and getting involved in an affair between two of her friends. Even after all of this though, something darker is coming to Silver
1. Prologue

Heh, my first WoW ficcy, so be nice :D

It's just a really rough write up, that I just wrote up on a whim, and decided that I liked the idea. I know that this probably sucks, but again, keep in mind, I'm probably not the best writer, and this is pretty much my first _actual _serious story. Now, go forth and read!

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_**Blood Knights**_

_Prologue_

Itheal Bloodstriker smirked, surveying the initiates that lined up in front of him and his fellow trainers, and almost chuckled, seeing them tremble with nervousness. It was hard to believe that it was their job to turn these fools into Blood Knights, but he believed they could manage it. After, wasn't it the policy that during tests, the incompetent ones would probably not survive? Cruel, it may be, but it was a way of assuring that only the best were inducted into their order, and that weak were cast aside. Suddenly a door behind them slammed open, and he heard the heavy footsteps of Champion Bachi and Lord Bloodsworn, along with the Blood Knight Matriarch. Quickly, along with his fellows, he stood at attention, and a few initiates took his example and followed suit. The others simply stood and stared in awe at the trio. Champion Bachi, who Itheal knew loved putting on a fierce show to scare trainees, scowled ferociously.

"Oi! At attention maggots! Have you louts never learned to salute your superiors?!" He shouted, his loud voice echoing around the large room. He walked down the line, nodding at the initiates who had been in the proper stance when they entered, the first being a relatively pretty copper-haired girl with milky skin, the second being a raven-haired boy, the third being another boy, this one with blonde hair. The others who had not saluted, he cuffed around the head, before shouting the proper stance. The initiates scrambled to obey, some holding it very poorly. This time The Blood Knight Matriarch stepped forward, smiling slightly.

"Thank you, Bachi. I have it now," She said, and some of the initiates, most which seemed no older than fifteen- which was logical of course, seeing as this was maximum age for training. She turned to them, and smirked coldly. "I don't know why some of you chose this path; frankly, I don't care. If you chose it simply for the glamour, or for glory, I am going to advise that you walk out that door right now. Any takers?" She asked, staring them down with cold green eyes. "No? This is your last chance." This time, at least five of the twenty-five turned around, and walked, looking ashamed. Lady Liadrin watched hem go, and once they were gone, she shrugged.

"They're honest." She muttered, before continuing her speech. "For those of you that stayed, that was your last chance to leave. Now you're in for good; either you'll become a Blood Knight, or you'll die on the way. Statistics show that only one out of every four initiates live to become a full-fledged Blood-Knight. These next few months will be complete hell for all of you. You will first learn to fight. You will be covered in bruises on your first day, and on your second new ones will layer on top. Only after you have proven yourself adequate, will you be allowed to practice with actual swords. Then, you will learn to ride. For the weeks after, you will eat, sleep, and live in the saddle, and then you will learn to fight in it. Only then, if we think you have the potential, will you be taught the arts of harnessing the Naaru's power. Sound like fun?" She asked with a vicious grin, and she could see that most initiates felt like running, but didn't.

"Now, we will assign you to a trainer, four to one Knight. Blood Knight Salian, your initiates are…" and Itheal zoned out for a moment. Sal was only eighteen, though no one knew that; the only reason he was training initiates was because he was just on the brink of _another _promotion; it even unusual for someone this young to be a Blood Knight. Itheal himself was twenty-four.

Itheal observed the group of four before him with slight satisfaction; he had gotten what looked like a good group this time, though he could already pick out the ones who wouldn't survive. The first girl was the one with the copper colored hair and milky skin that had saluted. She looked as though she would survive, between a lean, yet still strong physique. He ran his eyes up and down her appraisingly; with a pretty blush, and developing womanly features, she was obviously going to be quite attractive once she reached adulthood. That is unless she was marred by some scar or other, which was likely.

The second girl was probably _not _going to survive, as she was rather frail looking, but only time would tell; perhaps she would survive, and the first one wouldn't. She was a classic example of the beautiful Sin'dorei, with almond-shaped green eyes, long, well taken care of white-blonde hair, a set of naturally pink, pouting lips, and a very tiny build. Honestly, his first thought was that she had taken a wrong turn on her way to some young lord's house.

The third one, this time a boy, was the raven haired one that had also saluted. He was rather lean, and lanky, with perpetually raised eyebrows, and a easy-going grin. He was strong looking though, and from the power radiating from him, one could tell that he would be able to manipulate the Naaru perfectly.

The last one, another boy, was blonde, with broad shoulders, and a very serious facial expression. He supposed that women might think he was handsome, but seeing as he was not a woman, of course he wouldn't know.

"Alright," Itheal said to them, still pondering on who would live, "Let's start with names and ages I suppose. You'll want to know something about your comrades." He pointed to the copper-haired girl, who looked surprised. _I suppose I'll just call her copper…_he thought, and shrugged.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, blushing as she was snapped out of her reverie. "Uh, my name's Aleinia Lightstrike, and I'm fourteen."

"Right. Next?"

"I am Nalannai Fireveil, and I am fourteen as well" The blonde girl said, in a quiet, mouse-like squeak. _Someone of the Fireveil family? Perhaps she will survive after all…they are known for producing top-notch paladins, are they not?_

"I am Sanaden Sunwing." The blonde boy introduced and finally, the black-haired one said.

"Mathus Everwind."

"Itheal Bloodstriker, I'm twenty-four, and I'm your trainer, obviously. Like the Lady said, prepare yourself for hell."

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I'm not particuarly happy about the way I portrayed the Bloof Elves, but...ah well. The prologue was mainly centered on Itheal, but the rest will mostly be centered around Aleinia. Well, that's all I really have to say, except for the fact that I appreciate constructive criticism. R/R :) 

-Feareth


	2. Chapter One

HUGE thanks going out to my two reviewers, **Kaedwen, **and **SassyOMG2282. **You're reviews were awesome :D

So anyway, I realize this chapter is way short (compared to what I'm used to), but that's just how they keep coming out, and I think most chapters will be like this. Also, I'm going to start trying for a chapter every weel, or every other week. Or just updating at random times :)

And that tis all I have to say. Go forth and Read!

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**Blood Knights**

_Chapter I_

Aleinia stumbled backwards, cursing, as Itheal's sword hilt slammed down upon her wrist. Her own wooden training sword clattered to the ground, and she threw herself to the side to avoid his next strike. His practice sword slammed into the ground where her arm had previously been, and she threw herself to the right this time, landing in a heap at Nalannai's feet. She ignored Nalannai's sympathetic look and scrambled upward, grabbing her abandoned sword by her fingertips. The trainee barely threw it up in time to catch Itheal's next blow, gritting her teeth as the two were locked in a stalemate. The winner was already obvious; Itheal's strength dwarfed Aleinia's, and within a few moments, she was once again swordless.

Aleinia grimaced, glancing at the sword at her neck. Sighing, she backed away, wiping off the sweat that had covered her forehead. As she did so, Itheal smiled at her, and she noticed enviously that he had barely broken a sweat; it honestly looked like he didn't have a single chestnut hair out of place on his head. Her own copper hair, on the other hand, clung to her forehead in clumps, and was coming loose from its bun.

"You did well," Itheal offered, and she shook her head. "Your form is great, and you simply have to take advantage of your speed, instead of trying to use your strength. I can gaurentee that if you relied on your speed, you would see a great improvement." Aleinia sighed again, sheathing her broadsword.

"Yeah, I know," She muttered, sitting on a bench on the outside ring of the training area. Itheal simply shrugged, and called for Nalannai to enter the ring. The other girl did so, sliding her shield onto her forearm, and holding her shortsword in the other. She crouched in a defensive position, and Aleinia watched wistfully as the girl dodged Itheal's first strikes. It couldn't last for long though, and the Knight was soon in control of the fight, raining blows upon the blonde girl mercilessly. He fought with a certain grace, she noted, cocking her head to the side and smiling. It was almost snake-like; striking first in one place, and then in another less than a second later. She had heard that opponents of Itheal were usually dead before they realized they were attacked.

"You think he's handsome, eh?" Aleinia spun around at the sound of Mathus's voice. The said raven-haired boy grinned wickedly at her, and she flushed a deep red.

"I-I _no!" _She said, wishing to shrivel up and die. Mathus sat next to her, shrugging.

"It's alright Alei. You wouldn't be the first to think so; honestly, you have to hear the girls squealing when he walks by." He scrunched up his face, and changed his voice to do a cheap imitation of the rich young ladies of Silvermoon. "_By Kael'thas, that was Itheal Bloodstriker! I feel as though I might faint! Isn't he so _dreamy? _I would become a blood knight just for him! Oh how I wish he would notice me!" _Aleinia, forgetting that had accused her of doing the same thing, laughed, glancing at Mathus out of the corner of her eye. It seemed that that was what Mathus loved to do; make people laugh.

"Seriously, it's pitiful. You'd think they'd have better things to do with their time than worship the ground he walks on. Not that he's a bad guy; he just loves the attention…" Mathus trailed off as Aleinia wrinkled her nose.

"No need to worry about me doing something like that. It would take a miracle to transform me into a proper lady." At this point she grinned. "Have you ever seen me attempt to walk in fancy shoes?" She asked, and he laughed, shaking his head.

"Something tells me I don't want to." He responded, and she nodded.

"Pyronus ended up with a bruise on his head for weeks…" She said and the both chuckled. Pyronus Lightstrike was an odd one, even for a mage. It probably took more than a shoe chucked at his head to bring that man back to reality; normally, you'd find him wandering around Silvermoon, absentmindedly setting plants on fire, his nose in a book. He consistently amused his seven siblings, whom were all level headed paladins. Aleinia had spent the first eight years of her life chasing him around, putting out the fires he started.

"How is Pyronus, anyways?" Mathus asked, and Aleinia grinned.

"He's in the Sunspire, receiving 'further training'." She responded, and Mathus moaned.

"Does that mean he's cooped up with other people like him?" He asked fearfully, and Aleinia nodded. He gave an over dramatic groan, closing his eyes.

"I do hereby predict," He muttered, "that the end of the Sin'Dorei will not come from the Scourge, Alliance, Burning Legion, the Wretched nor some odd mutation of rabbits. No, the end shall come by the hands of oblivious mages who need several large bricks dropped on their heads." Aleinia giggled into her hand, realizing that Mathus was probably right. Hearing footsteps, she looked behind her, and then waved their fourth teammate, Sanaden Goldwing over. He smiled, relenting to her.

"Hello San." She said brightly, her mood greatly improved. He smiled again, brushing his hair out of his face.

"Hello Mathus, Alei." He said formally, and the Mathus waved.

"How's it going San? I mean besides having a completely unknown creature feeding off your head." Mathus greeted him, referring to Sanaden's ridiculously large hairstyle. It was a common thing to make fun of, what with it being larger than the muscular paladin's own head. Sanaden scowled playfully.

"It's not _that _bad," He said defensively, smoothing his spiky hair, and shot a mock-glare at Mathus. "At least mine is not the color of someone's cremated remains." Mathus gasped dramatically, his hand over his heart.

"How dare you! The ladies _love _my hair. They tell me that it is soft, silky, and the color of …of…" He turned to Aleinia, "Help me out here Alei, what's my hair the color of?" Aleinia pursed her lips, trying not to laugh.

"Feces?" She suggested, and he grinned, turning his attention back to Sanaden.

"That is it. They tell me it is the lovely color of feces." After a moment, he blinked, and looked back at Aleinia.

"Alei, what exactly are feces?" He asked suspiciously, and she raised her eyebrows.

"To put it politely….ah…waste." Mathus pulled a face, pretending to gag.

"I would say you may want to reconsider the way you take care of yourself then, Mathus, if you are told you look like waste," Itheal said with a chuckle. "But I do believe that you have never even courted a woman before."

"Of course I haven't." Mathus responded perkily. "I wouldn't want to break poor Nala's heart now, would I?" He asked, casually slinging an arm around the sweaty adolescent. She turned pink, and shoved his hand off, staring at her feet.

"Pervert…" She muttered, still pink in the face.

"See, she's simply in denial of her great love for me! Besides, what do they tell you what you look like? Rust? Dried Blood?" Itheal sighed, looking at the sky.

"No, I believe it's usually something more along the lines of 'godlike'" He said, and Aleinia certainly had to agree, seeing the way the sunlight hit him, illuminating his chestnut hair, his brilliant green eyes, and laid-back smirk.

"Perhaps they were referring to Hakkar?" Mathus suggested cheekily, "I've heard he isn't too pleasant looking. That is, he isn't unless you like giant snakes." Itheal chuckled again and raised a hand to stop the boy.

"Enough. As much as I enjoy the subject matter, you really should be studying swordplay. Unless you want to be killed, because I'm not exactly sure that your wit will save you from the Scourge."

"Of course it will!" Mathus protested. "I'll make them laugh to death with terrible jokes!"

"Mathus, they're already dead."

"…Damn it."

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Aleinia tucked her copper bangs behind her ears before shouldering her pack, heading home that night. She was out of the Blood Knight Headquarters when Nalannai ran up to her, panting.

"What's wrong Nala?" Aleinia asked, and Nalannai smiled.

"Nothing; Mathus and Sanaden just sent me to ask you if you wanted to come out and eat with us?" She inquired, and Aleinai pondered it for a moment.

"Sure," she responded, "Where?"

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At the Silvermoon City Inn, Aleinia laughed as Mathus, once again, tried to make a move upon the ridiculously shy Nalannai. By this point, the poor girl looked like she was going to faint, Aleinia noticed, lifting her cup to her lips. Sanaden on the other hand, was locked in deep conversation with a Forsaken mage, leaving Aleinia to eat her dinner in peace. She did so, watching her companions in utter amusement, until Sanaden attempted to grab their attention. Aleinia was the only one to look at first, and it took another three minutes to get Mathus.

Clearing his throat, Sanaden glanced around at his fellow trainees faces; Mathus, smiling and joking. Nalannai's, shy and sweet. Aleinia's, which gave away her calm and practical nature.

"You know how everyone is always telling us how usually only one out of four trainees survives?" He asked them, and they nodded. "Well, it's already been a three months, and none of us are dead yet."

"Obviously," Mathus interjected. "Unless…" He turned to the Forsaken mage and tapped her on the shoulder. "Ma'am, do I look dead to you?"

She stared at him as though he were crazy for a moment. Then; "No." she hissed.

"Well that settles it then. The Forsaken says we're not dead!" He declared and the other three raised their eyebrows.

"Well, _anyway," _Sanaden continued, "As I was going to say before I was interrupted-"

"No one was interrupting you. You just stopped." Mathus pointed out, and Aleinia smacked him in the back of the head.

"Mathus, please. Shut up."

"Alright, alright, no need to be so touchy," He said with mock-disdain.

"Again, I was going to say that, since we are going to prove them wrong, I had these made." Sanaden said shyly, pulling out a velvet pouch. Opening the string, four golden rings spilled out on the table, each with a letter and the Blood Knight insignia engraved upon it. Nalannai gasped, examining one that had a fancy _N_ on it. The others likewise, had an _M, S, _and an _A. _

"Damn, San. How much did you pay for these?" Mathus asked after he whistled. Sanaden smiled sheepishly.

"I didn't. My sister's a jewel crafter, and she owed me a favor." He murmured, and Aleinia grinned appreciatively.

"Tell her she's a good one." She said softly, sliding hers on her right hand.

"She knows." Sanaden responded with a smile.

"I think…I think we should make a pact." Nalannai said shyly. "That we _will _live to be Blood Knights. Together."

"I'm all for that!" Mathus confirmed, placing his hand at the center of the table, his ring glinting. Nalannai placed hers on top of his, and then Aleinia, and finally Sanaden, all of their rings reflecting the light of the chandelier.

"We're _all _going to live, no matter what anyone else says." Sanaden murmured one last time, and they all smiled in agreement.

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Haha, that ending sorta...sucked. :)

I really feel like my writing has been _Really _terrible lately...I don't know why, but it just isn't flowing, the descriptions really stink, and it sounds like a fifth grader wrote it! It's self criticism, and I'm way too harsh, but still, I think it could definitely use some improvement. Ah well...I shall try.

So, hopefully I can get some cronstructive criticism? -Feareth begins to beg on her knees-

As I said before, my chapters will be relatively short, probably around this length. So, that's that for now.

-Feareth


	3. Chapter Two

Blood Knights

Hi guys! :D

Sorry about not updating last week, I had a concert :) (I'm the uber-band geek. Hehe, just kidding, but band _is _awesome, no matter how geeky we seem.)

So, you get a bit of a longer chapter because I didn't update. I'm fearing that I rushed the character development, but ah…oh well?

Big huge thanks going out to **SassyOMG2282 **and **Ninpo **For the awesome reviews :D I think I might start responding to reviews in the chapters….hm….

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_**Blood Knights**_

_Chapter II_

Aleinia yawned, leaning against the door to the Fireveil house, waiting for someone to answer the door, as she stared into the morning mist. It was tinted pink, by the early stages of the sunrise at the edges of the horizon, while the rest of the sky was still the dark blue of night, scattered with stars. The city was only just beginning to awaken; the vendors were the only ones out, setting up their booths and wares for the day, under the guard's watchful gaze. Aleinia returned her attention to the door again, and knocked for the third time, pausing to run her fingers over the carved and gilded door. It was impressive, to say the least; the Fireveils were incredibly wealthy, due to a large inheritance, and Lord Fireveil being a powerful, prominent Magister.

_Nalannai must have always lived in the lap of luxury…_Aleinia thought bitterly, before she quickly stifled such thoughts, scolding herself. _It's terrible to think such a thing! It is not Nala's fault that you grew up poor. Besides, such thoughts could lead to a dysfunctional team. And Nala is possibly the sweetest elf to walk upon Azeroth. _She knocked again, crossing her arms as her ears caught the sound of hoof beats. Glancing down the cobblestone street, she saw a man in Blood Knight Armor, riding a silver charger, followed by two others; One was riding a palomino steed, and while his helm concealed his face, the spike of sunny-yellow hair that protruded out of the back gave him away as Sanaden Goldwing. The other was on a pitch black stallion that towered over her, and whose hooves were only marginally smaller than her head. Despite his size though, the stallion's mannerisms were quite the same as its rider's. Aleinia had once questioned Mathus on why he had named the black beast 'Darkmoon', and had thought he was named for his coloring. But this was not the case; upon hearing her question, Mathus had looked surprised and had given her quite a bizarre answer…

"_His coloring? Of course not! I named him after the Darkmoon Faire!" _Aleinia smiled and shook her head at the memory, before raising a hand in greeting. The gesture was returned by Sanaden and Itheal, and more energetically returned by Mathus. She sighed; _Perhaps I shouldn't have hit him so hard during our last sparring session…he's obviously touched in the head. _

Itheal dismounted from his charger, waving for Sanaden and Mathus to continue on to the gate.

"_Bal'a dash, Rector_ Bloodstriker," She murmured formally, and bowed. "_Doral ana'diel?"(1) (2)_

_(3)"Mirus, mei domina." _He responded, leaning over to kiss her hand, and Aleinia flushed a bright red when his lips brushed her skin, remaining there for a moment longer than necessary. She quickly pulled her hand back as he straightened, smiling at her.

"I see you have started to memorize your Court manners." He pointed out, and Aleinia nodded mutely, still blushing. "Good. The only thing I could say is that, in a formal event, you will be expected to curtsy." She simply nodded again, turning to the door as she heard soft footsteps. The golden door flew open, and immediately there was a force tackling into her legs.

"Alei!" four year old Nyste Fireveil cried, hugging the Blood Knight Trainee about the knees. Aleinia shrieked from surprise, loosing her balance, and swinging her arms around like a windmill attempting to regain it, without success. She stumbled back, and shrieked again as she fell backwards down the steps, her mail armor weighing her down, and crashed into Itheal. His eyes widened as Aleinia fell into his chest, her chain mail and his plate armor grating together to create a horrifying screech. Finally, the two came to a halt, with a small 'oomph' of breath as Itheal accidentally jabbed his elbow into Aleinia's gut as he landed on top of her. She moaned; why, whenever she fell, did she _always _have to be the one hitting the ground first? By Kael'thas…Opening her eyes, she realized that Itheal was staring down at her, his eyebrows lifted, their faces scant inches apart.

"You're certainly graceful," He laughed, and, although she knew he meant it kindly, she almost felt like crying; Every time she saw him, she made an effort to look like she was more talented than she actually was. Yet, every time, she ended up making herself look like a clumsy fool. She was actually shocked to find the tears building up behind her eyes as Itheal rolled off of her, looking concerned.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, grabbing hold of her wrist and removing it from her face so he could see her eyes. She gave him a wobbly smile.

"I-I yeah. I just landed really hard on my leg." She murmured, avoiding his gaze. He sighed, standing up, and offered her a hand. She took it, muttering a thanks before starting back up to where Nyste, and Nalannai's other younger sister, Faeralys, a pretty young thing of thirteen years, waited. Faeralys offered her a sympathetic smile- the girl was way too perceptive for such a young age- and said; "Nala will be out it a moment. Melina and Vayria are just grabbing her sword and supplies while she gets her armor on."

Aleinia bit her lip and nodded, glancing away until Nyste tugged on the bottom of her Blood Knight tabard, her green eyes impossibly wide. "Alei, why are you so sad?" She asked, before placing her thumb in her mouth. Aleinia was slightly disconcerted by the fact that the child never seemed to blink, but shrugged it off. Kneeling down, she laughed, and ruffled the child's short hair.

"I am not sad, Nyste; simply tired." The girl's face lit up, showing her distractible nature that every four-year-old seemed to share, before skipping into the house (_more like mansion…_Aleinia thought, before pinching herself).

"Happy Birthday, by the way," Itheal said conversationally. "Sorry about getting us called away to the Tranquillian on your day. Seventeen now, right?"

She nodded. "It's not your fault" she muttered half-heartedly. Itheal smiled at her.

"I feel bad anyways. I'm sure Mathus will probably throw you some crazy celebration when we return though." He chuckled. She couldn't help it- she was upset. Honestly, a Blood Elf's seventeenth year was the _biggest _thing; this was the year that the Magisters would divine their magic potential, showing how great a mage one would become, or whether they should train in the art of becoming a true Blood Knight. As in, healing, and whatnot. She knew she was acting like a spoiled child, and she resented the fact, but why did these people in Tranquillian need a Blood Knight and Trainees every five seconds? She had heard talk that Lady Liadrin was finally going to assign a group to the town, and prayed that it wouldn't be her; the Forsaken were just dandy. She just didn't particularly love the smell of fetid skin, and watching them taking their eyeballs out, realizing they grabbed the wrong one, and trade with their companion. It was perhaps a little more than slightly disturbing. The Blood Elves of Tranquillian were depressing as well, from what she'd heard. Always talking of some dark conspiracy of the Scourge or other; she honestly didn't understand how her friend, Kelliria Brightwing, could stand to live there. Kell was always happy, bright, and bubbly- and being younger sister of the Ranger-General of Silvermoon, she could have gotten a position that involved dresses, handsome lords, and never seeing a speck of blood. Yet, Kelliria chose Tranquillian, and being on the front lines against the Scourge.

"A copper for your thoughts?" Nalannai beamed at Aleinia, startling her teammate as she closed her door.

"Just wondering what use the Tranquillian could have for us mongrels." Aleinia said, hefting her pack over her shoulder, avoiding Itheal's gaze as she brushed past him making her way towards the stables.

_**-Aleinia-**_

Aleinia tapped her mail-gloved fingers lightly against the reins of her stallion, Sereno, staring up at the sky, at the clouds passing by.

It was amazing to her, now that she was thinking about it. That she, always known on her family's street as little Alei, was now a Blood Knight Trainee, in a group with the infamous Itheal Bloodstriker, Nalannai Fireveil, Sanaden Goldwing, and Mathus Everwind, the group that was known for having a great relationship and- amazingly- five living elves.

Even so, through all of this, she couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit awkward among these people she now counted among her friends. Sure, they were wonderful, kind, caring and loveable. But although it was denied vehemently by Silvermoon's higher-ups, your rank in Sin'Dorei society depended not on your personality traits, but upon your wealth or, in rare cases, your power. Itheal, Mathus, Nalannai, and Sanaden were from _very _affluent families.

Aleinia was not.

The Lightstrike family was from a long line of low-ranking paladins, even going back to the days when they had been Quel'Dorei. While the family had never been without, the fact that they had eight children, and a meager income, supported only by Aleinia's father, there was never any money to spare on frivolous things.

Aleinia had never realized this, until she ventured into the Blood Knight Headquarters, with her third eldest brother, Charian, whom was also a paladin, for him to collect a report. When they left, there was a beautiful young noblewoman standing there, with long blonde hair, resembling a sunshine burst running down her back, and adorned with jewels of every kind.

**Charian had immediately begun flushing faintly, and told Aleinia to stay on a bench as he approached the woman. Completely ignoring her brother's request, as any sister would, she followed him, and froze upon hearing the conversation. She didn't quite understand it, but she knew it was hurtful. **

"**I-I uhm…Yunia?" he stuttered softly to the woman and she glanced at him. Char had always been shy…**

"**Yes?" He flushed, staring at his feet.**

"**Well…I was sort of, kind of, wondering…wouldyouliketogototheBloodKnightballwithme?" He was able to say this in a space of about two seconds, and it took Aleinia a few moments to figure out what he said. **_**Would you like to go to the Blood Knight Ball with me? **_**He had asked. The woman processed this for a moment, before bursting into peals of laughter. **

"**Go to the ball…with **_**you? **_**Are you mad, Lightstrike?" He said nothing, his ears drooping lower with every word she said, his dark hair falling over his jade eyes. "I would **_**never **_**be able to be seen with a peasant such as you! It would be a disgrace!" She continued on in this fashion, until Aleinia charged forward, her eyes narrow, and pounded on the woman's legs with tiny fists and all the fury a six-year old could muster. **

"**Stop it!" She shouted, "Don't pick on my brother!" Yunia glared down at the child, stepping backwards. **

"**So the Lightstrike family has popped out another child. How surprising." Aleinia continued to pound on the legs, until Yunia grabbed her arm. **

"**Enough, wretch." She snapped, and shrieked as Aleinia bit down on the arm that held her captive. **

"**You… you **_**animal! **_**The Lightstrikes have raised a complete barbarian!" She shouted, backing away, rubbing her arm, while Charian looked at them in complete horror. Ithalis Bloodstriker and a sixteen-year old Itheal, only a trainee himself at the time, had been looking on in amusement, but once Yunia started screeching, they knew that had to intervene. So they did, with Ithalis firmly laying a hand on Yunia's shoulder and turning her to face him. **

"**Do not manhandle m- Oh! Ithalis!" In that moment, Yunia seemingly transformed from a shrieking banshee into a meek maiden, fluttering her eyeslashes and sliding up against the Master Blood Knight. "Oh, Ithalis," She murmured, trembling "This…this poor, poor misguided girl, she **_**attacked **_**me for no reason whatsoever while I was having a perfectly pleasant conversation with her brother!" She glanced at Charian, knowing he wouldn't dispute her claim. **

**Ithalis simply pushed her off of him, scowling. "No, Lady Sunsinger, I do believe you highly angered this little girl by harassing her brother." He said, and she gasped. **

"**I- How **_**dare **_**you say such a thing!" She cried and he sighed, attempting to placate her, without much success. This gave Aleinia to study the two men; even as a six-year old she recognized the older, larger man, Ithalis, as being quite handsome. The other one, though, was all arms and legs, still in the stages of adolescence and bound to grow into the limbs. His head was covered by a shock of golden-brown hair. Seeing her looking at him, he grinned and winked, before returning his attention to Yunia and Ithalis. Ithalis sent the woman off to her home, in The Court of the Sun. He then turned to Charian. **

"**I- I apologize for the inconvenience, Sir Bloodstriker, Trainee Itheal," **

"**It is no problem, Charian." Ithalis said smiling, before kneeling before Aleinia. "But perhaps little…" **

"**Aleinia. Aleinia Lightstrike." Charian supplied, and Ithalis smiled. **

"**Perhaps little Aleinia here should not bite people." Aleinia crossed her arms and glared at him, looking more adorable than intimidating in her six-year old way. Charian nodded, bowing to the two men, and quickly picked up Aleinia, jogging towards their home on Murder Row. **

Aleinia sighed, looking at her hands. It had been eleven years since that day, and she had learned to mainly stay away form the rich areas of the city, unless she wished to be looked at like she was filth. Her only sister, the sibling that was closest in age, yet farthest in their relationship as sisters, was the exception, acting like she was rich, much to Aleinia's disgust.

Simply put, Aleinia and Jannisal didn't like each other. Jannisal fancied herself as being a proper woman, and thought that Aleinia was lowering her status even further by becoming Blood Knight. (Aleinia had never known how she had reached this conclusion, but she simply passed it off as Jannisal being Jannisal). That said, Aleinia had never really learned to be a 'proper woman', as in how to walk in a dress, how to apply make-up, how to style hair, nor how to successfully flirt with a man. So, when Itheal came along, she had no idea what to do about these strange, strange feelings in the pit of her stomach, making her clumsy, and blush- a lot.

She bit her lip and glanced at Itheal, hearing him whistle.

_**-Itheal-**_

Itheal chuckled, noticing Aleinia start in her saddle when he let out a loud whistle. The noise had been mainly directed at Mathus, who was drifting off to sleep nn his steed, but that worked as well. As for Mathus, he promptly fell off Darkmoon, landing on his rear with a loud curse.

"Don't fall asleep now, Mathus!" He called out brightly, and Mathus threw him a dirty look. He yawned, leaning to the side as a glob of mud flew threw the air, where his head previously was, smirking as Aleinia and Nalannai laughed.

He loved these guys; around them, he could act like _himself. _He didn't have to put on a pretty face and respectful attitude for Noblemen with their heads irreversibly stuffed up their arses. Such an act was one that he had always had to keep up since he was a mere child, born into the powerful Bloodstriker family. He had always been in the shadow of his eldest brother, Ithalis, and had never thought of himself as anything special; that is, until he reached his seventeenth birthday. As anyone knew, this was the one of the biggest events of a young elf's life, and on that fateful day, Itheal stopped hiding behind his brother. All at once, people began to notice him, his abilities as a Blood Knight, and, to Itheal's secret delight, his looks. It seemed that within a day, he was asked to train groups of young Trainees, and women were practically lining up at his door, just as they had done to his brother.

Ithalis warned him to not let such attention go to his head, but Itheal brushed off such warnings, saying that it wouldn't. The power itself didn't go to his head. Although he was ashamed to admit it, the women did. He quickly gained a reputation as a player, never short on someone to warm his bed. Yet young women continued fawn over him, despite such a status.

Ithalis has warned him of this too; that such a reputation would precede him, and should he truly fall for a woman, that woman would scorn him. Itheal had assumed that Ithalis was referring shabby treatment and had protested to such an accusation; He treated his mistresses like royalty, showering them with compliments and favors. Ithalis had simply shaken his head and smiled

'_It is not because of shabby treatment, little brother. It is because you have grown cocky; you will love her because she does not fall over you, and she will hate you because you expect her too.' _

Itheal had scoffed at Ithalis's words and turned his back. Ithalis had simply given him a knowing smile and left, leaving Itheal to ponder his brother's precaution. Nevertheless, for these last ten years, he had yet to meet a woman who did _not _fall over is feet. Of course, he had never cared to woo a fellow Blood Knight, Ranger, nor a rogue, for fear of being gutted. Instead, he pursued mages, warlocks, priestesses, and naïve young she-elves. These were the types that he could generally flatter with a quick mind and quicker tongue; he hated to say it, f

or fear of seeming cruel, but it was almost like a game for him. '_How Quickly Can I get her to fall for me?'_ As of late he hadn't been doing much of this, due to the fact that his current woman was rather clingy Warlock. And he had enough with such women to realize that they did _not _respond well to him breaking off a relationship. So for now he was grinning and bearing it, even though he hated the demonologist's, Tashia's, guts.

"Ah, Master Bloodstriker?" Said a quiet voice behind him, and he turned to see Nalannai Fireveil.

"Again Nala, simply call me Itheal." He reprimanded gently, and she smiled.

"Alright, Itheal?" she repeated, and he nodded

"Yes?"

"We are approaching the border to the Ghostlands. We should be there in about five minutes, if my timing is correct."

_**-Nalannai-**_

Nalannai never thought of herself as anything special.

Sure, she knew she was pretty, and she pretty much hated that. It always seemed that people recognized her for this, rather than the fact she was a half-decent trainee. The only people she could think of that appreciated her abilities as a fighter were two of her sisters, Faeralys and Vayria, and her comrades, Aleinia Lightstrike, Sanaden Goldwing, Itheal Bloodstriker, and Mathus Everwind. As her gaze fell upon the owner of the last name, she flushed slightly, staring at the back of his raven-haired head.

She lightly brushed her high-boned cheeks with her fingers, horrified to find herself blushing.

Sure, people had courted and pursued her before, but Mathus…Mathus was different. Very different.

While most other suitors might shower her with gifts, and compliments, Mathus just had this way about him, a way that made her weak in the knees, and a way that transformed her from a fierce Blood Knight into a flushing, fumbling maiden in seconds.

Normally, she would ignore anyone courting her, thinking that they were gold-seeking skirt chasers that did not truly love her for _her. _Yet Mathus would sometimes smile at her with a look in his eyes that she did not quite understand, but made her feel faint. Other times he would joke around, pretending to be a stuffy nobleman, bowing down to her, kissing her hand, and swinging her around as if in a dance. She secretly relished such moments, often wishing he was doing them in all seriousness. Sometimes he would catch her staring at him, and she would quickly duck her head in embarrassment, wondering what had happened to make her feel like this. Just looking at him, it made her lightheaded, and made her heart skip a beat. And that was just looking at him; her daydreams of being a damsel in distress and being rescued by- you guessed it- Mathus Everwind, left her blushing and embarrassed. Should he ever make a romantic move on her in reality, she feared she would have a heart-attack.

Needless to say, Nalannai did not deal well with affectionate gestures.

All the same she _knew _that a romantic relationship with him would never work. Most likely, she would be married off to some old, decrepit lord, so she could have a load of children, and die a lonely widow. That was simply the way of things, what was expected of young noblewomen. Her parents had been lucky; while they had not married for love, they had been around the same age, and learned to love each other. But they were a rare case.

Unless Mathus somehow decided he was head-over-heels for her, or wanted to save her from a life living with an old crab (_which was far more likely_, she though miserably) and asked her parent's for her hand before and arranged marriage was approved, she would have to abandon her position as a Blood Knight, and raise a staggering amount of children.

By the Light…she felt like she was going to start crying.

_**-Mathus-**_

Mathus glanced curiously at Nalannai Fireveil, who was currently riding beside him. She had just sighed for about the third time in a row, gazing off at the sky with a far-off look in her eyes. Her hands were trembling on the reins of her mare (He recalled her giving the mare a ridiculously long name, in the language of their Kaldorei cousins; _Camerata della Cuore_- Friend of Heart) and her perfect – in his opinion at least- emerald eyes were beginning to water. Tapping her shoulder, he pulled Darkmoon to a stop. She glanced at him, pulling Camerata to a stop alongside Darkmoon.

"Yes?" She whispered quietly. Her voice was quavering.

"You're crying." He pointed out bluntly, and she shook her head, denying the obvious fact.

"I-I am not." In response, he leaned over, brushing the corner of her eye with his thumb, where her tears had begun to spill over, smirking as she flushed.

"Nala," He drawled, showing her the wetness on his thumb. "I pretty much call this crying." She looked at the ground, willing her self not to cry. "Will you tell me why you're crying? Or…I might have to tickle it out of you…." She didn't grin like she usually did. Instead, she just sniffled.

"I….just thinking about where I'll probably be in two years." She murmured as he dismounted, pulling her to the ground with him. He sat on the side of the grassy road, wiping away a second tear.

"And where is that?" He asked and she sighed.

"Having an arranged marriage to an old geezer that I hate, having an insane amount of kids just so he can have an heir, hating my life, no longer being a Blood Knight…" She murmured bitterly, clenching a fistful of grass, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Nala," He said uncertainly, and she glanced up at him, tears spilling over. "I don't think…maybe that won't happen?" She snorted, and hid her face in her hands to hide the tears.

"Yeah. Right. My parents only let me become a Blood Knight Trainee because they thought it was just a phase. They're already talking about having me stop training, just so they can marry me off for political influence. They're trying to get old Brolius Dawnstar, since his other wife just died giving birth…" Mathus's eyes widened and he tightened his grip on Nala's shoulder. Brolius Dawnstar _was _a powerful political force in Silvermoon; he was also on the elderly end of the scale, and renowned for beating his wives into submission. He had had five so far, all pretty young things just out of adolescence. And Nala fit the bill perfectly to be his sixth.

"By the Sunwell…." He murmured, and glanced down at her. "If your parents are truly going to arrange a marriage for you to that geezer, they're going to get my request for your hand instead. And I promise you, I won't take no for an answer, no matter what it takes. And besides- I love you." Nala choked on her spit, hearing these last three words; she had always imagined a declaration of love to soft, and romantic- not sudden like that! But then again, this was Mathus, and Mathus wasn't exactly one to draw things out, unless he was teasing. (Which tended to be often). She stared up at her, her eyes wide, and he grinned.

"Sorry, I forgot that you warrior-women prefer action over words," He murmured, and promptly tilted her chin upwards, kissing her firmly. As he drew back, she gaped at him, her vision going black, as she really tried not to faint. After a moment, he pulled her to her feet, grinning.

"I'll take your silence as 'I love you too, oh wonderful, brave, handsome, amazing Mathus Everwind,'" He said, placing a kiss on her nose, before boosting her up onto Camerata.

"Of course you may," She finally stuttered, regaining her voice, flushing violently. He grinned, finding a stump to stand on so he could mount Darkmoon.

"Good," He called. "Because one-sided relationships are sort of awkward."

_**Sanaden**_

Sanaden Goldwing had always been a gentleman, and he always showed signs of being a paladin. Even when he was but four years old, he was brave; one such example of this was when he first met Melina Fireveil, the older sister of Nalannai Fireveil. At the time, Melina had been twelve, and picking daisies outside Silvermoon, when a fearsome worm popped its head out of a hole in the ground. While these days she would never admit it, she was deathly afraid of anything that crawled, didn't have legs, was slimy, or lived underground. That said, she had immediately dropped the daisies and began screaming Bloody Mary.

Young Sanaden Goldwing, who had been out on a walk with his mother, had run as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him, to the site of the dropped daisies. Brandishing a stick against the formidable beast, he determinedly set about poking it back into its hole, much to the amusement of several human ambassadors and their Ranger guide who had been in the area. After several tension filled minutes, the beast retreated back into its fissure, and Sanaden had bowed to the laughs and applause from the ambassadors.

Another such time was perhaps a bit more serious, and took place when he was eight years old. He and his father had been visiting the Farstrider Enclave, which had been a sunny, golden place back then, before the Scourge Invasion, when there was a sudden ambush from the local Amani Trolls. Captain Helios had shoved the young boy into a corner as to protect him, and he remained there, quivering, until a headhunter came up behind him and grabbed him by the hair. The boy had kicked, screamed and even bitten (it was certainly a taste he never wanted to experience again; forest Trolls were _not _pleasant) to get free, to no avail. The boy had then instead, taken a candle from a fixture over his head, and shoving it down the laughing troll's throat. The Head Hunter had screamed in pain, but instinct guided Sanaden's hand as he grabbed an abandoned dagger, and stabbed in the general area of the troll's heart.

The paladins of Silvermoon had heard of this feat, and after much argument from Sanaden's mother, had taken the boy under their wing. From then on, he had been trained to live on a consistent schedule. Wake up, worship, eat breakfast, run laps, go to manners class, go to battle logistics study, eat lunch, practice sword play, learn archery, run more laps, wash, eat dinner, worship, and go to sleep. For two years, he lived like that, and was perfect content with continuing in that way; that is, until the Scourge Invasion. After that, the Paladins fell apart, and the Quel'Dorei left the Alliance. Much to his disappointment, Sanaden returned home. And even after that, he changed again, although the transformation was slow. His eyes changed from cerulean to a glowing green, contrasting starkly with his bright blond hair. He depended on magic, magic that seemed to not be there due to the destruction of the Sunwell. He slowly learned to draw such needed mana from magical pests and vermin that had had an upsurge in population, along with the rest of his family and friends.

When he reached his eleventh birthday, and had heard of the creation of the Blood Knights, he had been delighted. He could finally return to his paladin training! Of course, he didn't quite understand how they would train as paladins if they no longer placed their faith in the Light. His questions were answered upon visiting the Blood Knight Headquarters in Farstrider's Square; they did not call upon the Light anymore. No, they _controlled _the Light, bending it to their will. Lady Liadrin, a former priestess and the first of the Blood Knights had explained this to him, and then patted his head as if he were a small child. '_I sincerely hope that you will join us one day, Sanaden Goldwing, when you are of an appropriate age. Until then, stay safe.' _Indeed, she had hoped. She remembered him from when he was but eight years old, and thought he would be the perfect candidate for a Blood Knight.

On his fourteenth birthday, he had received a letter, marked with Solanar Bloodwrath's personal seal, asking him to, if he still wished to become a Blood Knight, report to Farstrider's Square in two weeks time. So he had, and had been assigned to his current group.

_**Blood Knights Page Break!**_

Sanaden smiled, lost in his thoughts, not noticing as the landscape slowly changed from golden grassy hills and thriving trees, to a drab, moldy dead land, full of creatures that hissed and drew back into the shadows as they came near. Slowly, the group that seemed to glow gold, compared to the rest of the land, approached a town. A blond man, an Arcanist by the looks of it, and with a hairstyle similar to Sanaden's, waved to them as they came near.

"You must be Itheal Bloodstriker? And…" He glanced at his notes, "Sanaden Goldwing, Mathus Everwind, Nalannai Fireveil, and Aleinia Lightstrike?" Itheal nodded, and the man bowed. "I am Arcanist Vandril. The Dame Auforious and High Executor Malvren await you." They nodded again, dismounting, and followed him. For a moment, Vandril smirked at them.

"And before I forget…" He looked slightly sadistic, his face lit by the flame of a lantern. "Welcome to the Tranquillian."

* * *

_(1) Bal'a dash Rector _BloodstrikerGreetings, Master Bloodstriker (_Rector_ is actually Latin)

_(2) Doral ana'diel- _How do you fare?

_(3) Mirus, mei domina.- _Wonderful, my lady (At this point, I switched over to Latin, since I was too lazy to find the Thalassian translations… :D And note that anything I have in Latin, I got off a translator site, so all grammar/usage is probably terribly wrong)

Haha the joy of using translator… if anyone speaks Latin, could you correct my usage?

So, Happy Easter guys!

I DID mean to have this chapter up WAY earlier tonight, but my internet had decided to spontaneously combust…Blech. And my brother uninstalled WoW on his computer, and since the laptop I use would commit suicide if I ever tried to load WoW on it, I'm currently WoW-less….The horror! Hehe :P

-Feareth

(PS- Go read _L.M. Frick_'s story An Unwanted Vacation. It's the uber-pwnage :D)


	4. Chapter Three

Well, hullo guys! :D

I think I'll stick with an update every other week...how does that sound to you guys? Because that gives me time so it's not quite so crappy, and it's not like my usual six-moth hiatuses :)

Soooo...anyway, I actually put up a site, dedicated to my fanfics. You can find Blood Knights on there, as well as a few character profiles. There _might _be a few extra things on there, but I don't really know. If you do decide to check it out, keep in mind that it's still in the works, and I stilll have to fix A LOT of things. I'm pretty sure its my homepage, unless I haven't changed it from Google

And, I'll put my DeviantArt account link on my profile. I'm hoping to put some of my crappy sketches for BK up there, although they're not up yet :D

Once, again, thanks to my super awesome reviewers!

**Kaedwen**

**SassyOMG2282 (dude...I'm not quite sure why I'm friends with you...:D) **

**Kenakamatsu**

**WarWolf95**

**Hint**

**and, last but definitely not least, Xoroth!**

And I've realized I've been forgetting the disclaimer! Oh Noes! Anyways, I don't own Warcraft :)

_**Blood Knights**_

_Chapter III_

"_Welcome to the Tranquillian." _

Aleinia shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around herself as she glanced around the god-forsaken place. This region had been aptly renamed the 'Ghostlands'. No longer did it hold any of the Quel'Dorei's former glory. The buildings, which had once been elegant and beautiful, now were covered with what seemed to be a permanent layer of mold and grime, shadows of what they once were. She retreated closer to Sereno, and he placed his heavy chocolate-colored head on her shoulder, his muscles tenser than they should be.

Forsaken leered at their group from the buildings, cackling and pointing. Aleinia felt her face heat up, knowing she was being mocked, and didn't even notice that she had clenched her left fist until Itheal laid a gentle, warning hand on her shoulder. Unclenching the hand, she took a deep breath, making an obvious effort to relax her muscles. He nodded, returning to his position in front of her and behind Vandril. The Arcanist seemed to make a show of parading them through the desolate town, smirking as if he had the Crown Jewels of Stormwind on a silver platter for the Dame.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sanaden stepping proud, over the mold growing through the cracks of the cobblestone path, looking splendid and almost as intimidating as Itheal in his radiant golden armor. Itheal himself was a sight to behold; his crimson and black armor gleamed menacingly, and he wore his Blood Knight tabard with pride, announcing to the world who he was and what he served. He had removed his ebony colored helm and held it by his side, revealing his well-chiseled face and narrowed jade eyes. At sound of laughter his head would swing towards the source, and his glare was more than enough to silence the perpetrator.

Looking behind her, she saw Mathus and Nalannai standing close to each other, though whether for protection or the comfort of another living creature, she didn't know. For a moment, Mathus gazed at the ground dejectedly, all humor gone from his form, and his raven hair covered his eyes. Then, quite abruptly, his head snapped up, and he stared forward determinedly, refusing to be daunted by these creatures. Nalannai discreetly squeezed his hand, before releasing it, fingering the hilt of her claymore.

_Why do they mock us so? _She wondered to herself, gazing around in confusion at the twisted beings. _Are we not the reinforcement that they so often ask for?_

As if reading her mind, Itheal fell in step with her for a moment; "They believe that we are inexperienced and untried whelps that will turn tail and run at the first sight of Scourge." A smirk lit his handsome face for a brief instant. "We'll show 'em eh?" She grinned back.

"Aye," Sanaden's smirk was more than a little feral looking. "Do not let them cow you, Alei. Once they see how well we drive back those abominations of the Lich King, they will give us the respect we deserve.

A few blood elves were starting to emerge from the dank structures, and thankfully, they met the Blood Knight group with a much warmer reception. As Itheal passed, they smiled, and a few even bowed.

They were a ragtag group of elves; while some of their clothing might have been high-quality once, now most seemed to be stained with blood and encrusted with grime. Most had simply abandoned such garments in favor of sturdy britches, and tough woolen shirts. Some of the better-equipped citizens had donned leather, and some even had gotten a hold of some poor-quality chain-mail. A good number had weak daggers, hammers, or even feeble swords strapped to their belts. Aleinia's hand rested on the hilt of her Blood Knight war-blade self-consciously.

The blood red steel blade, enchanted with powerful spells, a sword sent to her from the Blood Knight trainers, was fitted to her fighting style perfectly. Itheal had made sure of this when he had blades made for his group; hers was tailored to a quick slash-bash-and-duck style, while Sanaden's broadsword made sure he could catch any blow. Mathus carried a shorter than average sword, which, once again, fitted his style of twisting and turning, as a longer blade would have slowed him down and surely caused his demise. Nalannai, surprisingly enough, carried a shield and longsword, for beneath her frail-_looking_ exterior, she was incredibly strong, and fury only powered her even more. Any of their weapons would have easily sliced through those flimsy needles. And Silvermoon expected them to fend off the Scourge with them? It couldn't be done. The only truly well-equipped ones seemed to be the Ghostlands Guardians and the odd ranger here and there.

After what seemed like an eternity, Vandril, delivered them to the front of a dome-shaped building, putting on a respectful face and bowing. Turning his blond head, he swiftly walked down the path, before a young Ranger caught him, glowering at the Blood Knights with smoldering green eyes. As they passed through the arch of an entrance, his complaint could be clearly heard.

"Vandril," the young man hissed, "How could you deliver those…those snotty, conceited light-lobbers to the Dame before me? She _needs _to know about Ranger Valanna!"

Vandril glared at him down the bridge of his nose, before straightening his grubby robes. "Take care, Lethvalin not to insult those 'light-lobbers' as you so chose to call them. Lady Liadrin has sent us _competent _ones this time. Not like that other group, the ones that were killed during the first ambush…fools. The lot of them were utter fools, putting themselves out in the open and waving around their swords like that." He chuckled coolly. "Perhaps these Knights will survive for more than a day. Angering them would only, in turn, anger Lady Liadrin. She would pull these paladins out, and not only would you have lost us our back-up, but you would also bring the wrath of Dame Auforious and the entire Tranquillian upon you."

Lethvalin resigned himself to a grudging silence, leaning against the wall of the dome.

Aleinia gasped, hearing his words, and turned to Itheal, her eyes wide. He sighed, shaking his head.

"I didn't _want _you guys to find out about that…" He murmured. Mathus gave him a level stare until he began to speak again. "The last group that was sent here- Dawnbough's trainees- they decided to charge right into Deatholme, without Knight Dawnbough nor Dame Auforious's permission. They were dead within minutes. I'm sure you four saw her wandering around Silvermoon after…" His soft sounded bitter, Aleinia noticed. "She was out of her mind with grief." Shaking his head, he walked into the building.

Aleinia's breath caught in her throat, and her large emerald eyes met Nalannai's almond-shaped ones. Her shock was reflected there, along with a measure of fear. _Eliani_ _Dawnbough; she was always so bright and happy…and her group! Nyolan, he was an arrogant ass, but he certainly didn't deserve to die like _that. _And Onealia! She was such a sweetheart, always offering tarts and sweets to the orphans…_

For a moment, Nalannai, Aleinia, Mathus and Sanaden simply stared at each other, dreading walking through the door that might lead to their downfall. Sanaden was the first to move, gritting his jaw.

"Fate is indeed a cruel master," He quoted, but smirked. "But fate is not our master. We will not die." He sounded so sure, so confident, that it reassured his teammates. The four took deep breaths, straightened their shoulders and set their jaws, striding into the room.

At its center stood a tiny, slender woman, wearing surprisingly clean crimson robes, embroidered with gold thread. Red hair was held back by a red ornament that matched her fine clothes. Her face though, was anything but that. Her eyebrows her hawk like, her eyes calculating. Her jaw was strong, leading to a stubborn chin, and as she performed a traditional Sin'dorei greeting, they could see her hands were callused from work. They bowed back, before spreading out behind Itheal, as was supposedly expected.

"You are Sir Itheal Bloodstriker?" Itheal dipped his head in acknowledgement.

"Yes, my lady. What are your orders?" He asked and she shook her head. For the first time, Aleinia noticed a forsaken behind her. _This must be…High Executer Malvren? _Like all Forsaken, he was sinister looking, but maybe less so than others. His skin, thankfully, seemed to be mostly intact, and both eyes remained in their sockets, although they seemed to roll around a bit. He was clothed in black leathers, and held a menacing looking sword in his hand.

"For now, I simply wish for you to assimilate yourself with the people, so you become a familiar face, and they trust you. In one week's time, though, I wish for you return to me." Barely concealed relief flashed across Mathus's face. "Dismissed."

/0/0/0

Itheal glowered slightly, glancing the hand he had been dealt. It had been a week already, yet the Dame hadn't called for them.

So here he was, playing what must be his thousandth game of cards with Mathus, the Cook, a Forsaken Blacksmith, a Forsaken Deathstalker, and the innkeeper. They were all hopeless cases when it came to poker and gin, even by Itheal's standards, which were, in fact, not very high, if you take his own skill into consideration. Mathus had won about ninety-five percent of the rounds, with the other five percent being the rounds in which he took pity on Itheal and the Tranquillian citizens. Somehow, Mathus confided in him, he had to _work _to lose, rather than win. He would have thought that, with barely anything else to do, the people would be legendary car players. He guessed wrong.

Sanaden was taking his job of befriending the inhabitants quite seriously, and had memorized the name of almost every resident on the first night. In particular, he had taken an interest in the Flightmaster, Gloaming's counterpart, the Innkeeper, Deathstalker Maltendis, and a graceless huntress around his own age who was obviously infatuated with him. For the moment, though, he was locked in conversation with Kelliria Brightwing, the sister of Halduron Brightwing, and the mentor of the very huntress who was smitten with him.

Nalannai had turned on all the wit and charm she had been taught in her younger years by private tutors on manners. Soon, almost every occupant of the Tranquillian had taken a liking for the friendly, sweet, soft-spoken girl. She had made a point of going around the town and helping wherever she was needed. You needed help killing murlocs? Need supplies for the Dame's meal? She was your girl. The only thing she had refused, to the best of his knowledge, was to hold a Forsaken's detached hand while he put his shoulder back in its socket.

He had been suspecting relationship of some type budding between Nalannai and Mathus; he would often catch Mathus gazing at the pale young woman, looking like a love-struck puppy. Every so often Nalannai would look up, and, catching him staring, turn a bright red. Mathus, responding as only Mathus would normally, would blow her a kiss and wink, making her blush even deeper. What had really confirmed his suspicions, though, was when he walked in on the two on a darker than usual night. He had been making his way towards his room in the inn when his sharp ears caught a murmuring. It was Mathus's voice, yet he was talking so quietly that he couldn't figure out what the boy was saying. Pinpointing its source, he had found a room, light only by a small flickering candle in the center, judging by the dim light seeping out. Creaking open the door, he saw Mathus and Nalannai sitting across from each other, separated by a worn table. He was saying something that made her smile, and stroking her cheek softly. She had giggled quietly, and then leaned forward, her eyes closed. Their faces were scant centimeters apart when Itheal cleared his throat.

The two sprung apart as if struck by lightning, Mathus even falling out of his chair. Itheal had smirked at them, holding back a laugh, before waving.

"Just wanted to say g'night." He had said, grinning like a fiend. "Have fun with whatever you were doing." He had then walked out, chuckling. The next day, the two avoided Itheal like the plague. He knew it was only a matter of time until they got together though; the saying 'opposites attract' had never been truer. Mathus was extroverted and blunt, while Nalannai was a little more…tactful.

Aleinia though…she had shown a completely different side of her in the Tranquillian, and he didn't quite know what to think of it. Currently, she was seated at a table against the wall with a flirtatious ranger that was passing through. He was leaning in towards her, witty things just dripping off his lips, as she blushed and giggled, covering her mouth with calloused, pale hands. Feeling slightly irritated, for unknown reasons, he averted his gaze to his cards. Or at least he tried, but hearing the Ranger compliment every aspect of Aleinia's eyes every five seconds wasn't the best thing to help him concentrate.

Gritting his teeth, he glared at the two. What in Azeroth was Aleinia doing? What had happened to the sometimes-clumsy, down-to-earth, fighter he had trained? He hadn't realized he was crushing his cards until the Deathstalker plucked them from his hands, grinning.

"Let's take the 'Don't hate the player, hate the game' sentiment down a notch." He said, in his guttural voice, typical of a Forsaken. Startled, Itheal jumped, taking his gaze off Aleinia.

"Ehm…yeah. Right. Sorry." He stumbled over the words, embarrassed. The Forsaken chuckled, turning to see what Itheal had been looking at, and whistled.

"She's a pretty one, eh?" He asked, and Itheal's eyes widened.

"She's my student." He said bluntly, and The Deathstalker shrugged. It occurred to Itheal that he had never bothered to learn the man's name, simply referring to him as 'The Forsaken', or 'The Deathstalker'.

"So? Student teacher relationships aren't uncommon, last time I checked. Back when I was human, I married my student." The Forsaken said, and grinned at Aleinia when she realized he was looking at her. The elf flushed, turning away. Itheal shook his head stubbornly.

"I don't think I could do something like that; I know her too well, and I bet she'd feel odd with someone ten years older than her…" He sighed, sipping his cup of water, as the Forsaken looked at him curiously.

"But you're not totally against courting her." He stated, and Itheal shook his head, realizing he had put his foot in his mouth. Instead of responding, he asked another question.

"How much older were you than your wife?" He asked, and the Deathstalker had to think for a moment.

"I believe….I think Rose was fifteen years younger than me," He whispered, his golden eyes wistful.

"Is she…" He hesitated, not knowing how to phrase such a question.

"No. She was part of the Scourge. I had to cut her down myself." He said brusquely, and Itheal nodded.

"I'm sorry…" He muttered, but the Deathstalker waved him off, and gulped his ale. Itheal was slightly perturbed by the fact he could see it sliding down the man's throat, through a gap of skin.

"Don't. It was necessary; time moves on, you get over it." The Forsaken's eyes said otherwise. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, before Itheal looked up.

"What was your name again?"

"Aric Chadwick, at your service." He responded, and Itheal raised an eyebrow.

"You're that Forsaken that's involved with Kelliria Brightwing?" He asked, and Aric nodded.

"Yeah…like I said, you can get over loss," Grinning, he looked over to the hunter. She was animated, emphasizing her point by waving her arms, her green eyes bright in her tan face. They lapsed into silence, and Itheal mulled over Aric's words. _'She's a pretty one, eh?' 'But you're not against courting her' _

He ran his eyes down her body for a moment; true, she was pretty. She wasn't quite beautiful though; her features would be considered nice-looking rather than gorgeous, cute rather than sexy. Her glowing green eyes were large, and stood out against her milky white skin. Her nose was tiny, and sharp, though not unattractively so. Her jaw was fine, her chin stubborn, and she had slim shoulders. His eyes traveling downwards, he took in her figure. As a result of three years of training, her back was straight almost all the time when she was standing or sitting. While her bosom wasn't particularly large, her waist was tiny, before flaring out into her hips, and then elongated leg. _Legs that always seem to be tripping_, he thought, a small smile lighting his lips.

Sighing, he rested his chin on his hand. Would he truly be willing to court her? Probably not. He knew she was infatuated with him, but he was desperately hoped it was simply a girlhood crush, for her sake. He wouldn't want to hurt her, for even if he did court her, it would end up with broken hearts. He was a player at heart, and that would only cause heartache for her. He sighed again. He couldn't hurt her like that; he was too close to her, and, well, he _did _have a conscience. Besides, he was involved with Tashia.

"Master Bloodstriker?" It was the Arcanist again. Raising his head, Itheal cocked an eyebrow at the frail-looking mage. Vandril had proven himself to be a little more pleasant than he was on their impression, but Itheal and his students didn't particularly take a liking to him. He tended to love the spotlight, although he generally cared for the Tranquillian.

"Yes, Bamanlinie?" He asked, purposely using Vandril's first name just to irk him. He succeeded and smirked upon seeing the Arcanist flinch unintentionally.

"I recall telling you, Master Bloostriker," He growled through gritted teeth, "to call me Vandril." He spun around and glared at Aric as a chuckle escaped the Forsaken's chapped lips. Standing up, Aric grabbed the Arcanist's shoulder.

"Is that any way to treat old friends?" Aric inquired politely, "See here, we're all buddies. I call you Bamanlinie, we call him Itheal, and you call me Aric, eh?" Vandril glowered, shaking off the two men's grip.

"We are comrades," He hissed, "But certainly not friends, Deathstalker Chadwick." Itheal held back a chuckle as Aric sighed.

"And now I got myself thinkin' you were nice. Thanks for breaking my heart." He said sarcastically. Vandril ignored him, turning to Itheal.

"Please, gather your group. The Dame requests your presence." He clenched his teeth for a moment before turning back to Aric. "She also wishes for you and Lady Brightwing to accompany them." He added frostily before striding out with as much dignity as he could muster. Still laughing, Itheal surveyed the room for his trainees.

"Oi! Mathus, San, Nala, Alei! Time to go!" He shouted and the four slowly disentangled themselves from whomever they were speaking to, making their way to the Knight as Aric caught Kelliria's attention. Catching up with Sanaden at the door, Mathus raised his eyebrows.

"I do believe," He muttered, "That Itheal tends to go crazy when cooped up."

/0/0/0/0/

Dame Auforious looked over the group before her, consisting of the four trainees, the Blood Knight Master, Ranger Brightwing and Deathstalker Chadwick. Surely they would be enough to handle the task she had set for them? Clearing her throat, she blinked her incredibly bright sea green eyes.

"I wish for you seven to travel to the Dead Scar. There has been a group of Scourge coming dangerously close to the Andilian Estate, where one of our Magisters plans to set up a 'base', so to speak. I would simply have you drive them back." She paused, motioning for her advisor to hand her a quill. "You have a map, I assume?" She asked, and Itheal unhooked it from a rather nifty pouch on his belt. Rolling it out on the table in front of them, she tucked a strand of hand behind an elongated ear, before tracing a road downward from the Tranquillian. She marked a spot in red, right off the road near the Andilian Estate, before handing back to Itheal.

"Our scouts say the group is mid-sized, and ill-equipped, so it should pose no threat to you." She stated, and Itheal nodded, walking outside, mounting his charger, Phantom.

/0/0/0/

The light from the sun, which barely penetrated the thick fog of the Ghostlands in the northern end, grew even weaker the farther south they traveled. He could see Aleinia visibly trembling in Sereno's saddle, even under her armor and thick woolen cloak. He had taken the lead in their pack. Nalannai and Mathus had positioned themselves in the middle, Aleinia and Sanaden on the rear, and Kelliria and Aric flanking the group.

Glancing around in the dim light, Itheal wet his lips apprehensively, shifting his grip on his stallion's reins. There was something…something off. He couldn't quite place it though, but his neck prickled, as if he was being watched. Looking around at his comrades, he noticed the same sort of expressions on their faces, and that Phantom was prancing nervously, his breath making puffs of vapor in the bone-chilling cold of the air.

Standing up in the stirrups, he gazed around, spotting a small round building ahead. _This must be the Andilian Estate…but who is this? _He wondered, eyeing the red-robed blood elf suspiciously. The elf waved them over anxiously, looking nervous, before wiping his hands on his robe as the seven pulled to a stop in front of him.

"Oh, thank the Light you are here! You are the Blood Knights that the Dame sent?" He asked, and Itheal eyed him suspiciously.

"Yes. What is it to you?" He asked, noticing how the man's hands trembled with what he assumed to be nervous energy.

"I…I am Vekor, Master Kaendris's apprentice," He declared, stuttering. Itheal dismounted Phantom, not to be polite, but more so, should the elf prove to be a foe, he would have an easier grip on his sword.

"I am Sir Bloodstriker," Itheal muttered, observing his surroundings. As his gaze passed over the building, a splash of color caught his eyes. It was a ruby-red puddle, obviously of blood, which stood out against the drab atmosphere of the Ghostlands. Looking towards the wall, he saw there were fresh scorches marking it.

"Why, Vekor, is there blood in your building?" He inquired, narrowing his eyes.

"I…well, you know how wild those Ghostclaws are," he gulped nervously. "One attacked me, in the building, and I had no choice but to kill it." If possible, Itheal's eyes narrowed further.

"With magic? And fire spells? Weren't t you worried about burning your house?" He asked, and Vekor fiddled with the hem of his sleeve.

"I…well, it was one of those heat of the moment things, you know? I was reacting on instinct." He flinched under the unwavering stare of the mounted warriors, before Itheal sighed.

"Why did you call us over, whelp?" He asked, and Vekor recoiled, insulted upon being called a whelp, before remembering his apparent purpose of waving the group over.

"I…Sunwell, there's a whole group of undead on the road a little ways down, and I fear they're going to attack the Sanctum of the Sun!" He cried, his eyes bugging out of his face. Without so much as a word to Vorken, Itheal remounted Phantom, motioning for his companions to follow him down the disintegrating path, towards the Sanctum of the Sun.

Aleinia, though, remained for a moment longer, staring curiously at the Apprentice. He certainly didn't have the look or feel of someone who worked with arcane arts; the aura of his power was weak and wavered often, nothing impressive, perhaps typical of a rogue who didn't use their arcane gift. And Master Kaendris, as it had been proven, only accepted the best into his teaching. Kaendris also often worked his Apprentices to death (figuratively), yet this elf was healthy, with no sign of dark-circles or any other such things. Biting her lip worriedly, she trotted up to Sanaden, tensing and relaxing the muscles in her thigh, as she tended to do when she was nervous.

As they rode, she could have sworn she heard him speaking, but passed it off as her imagination.

/0/0/

"There!" Kelliria called, pointing to mass of rotting abominations milling along the edge of the Dead Scar.

All thoughts Aleinia had ever had about the Forsaken being ugly vanished. In fact, Aric looked rather handsome, compared to these beats. They lumbered about the apes, some missing arms, others missing legs. Mold grew upon their fetid skin, or at least what remained of it. She could only assume they were communicating with those grunts and roars. As the putrid smell of putrid flesh reached her nose, she gagged, before attempting to hold back her vomit. Nalannai, unfortunately, wasn't able to, and leaned over the side of Camarata's saddle, retching, as Sanaden rubbed her back sympathetically.

Kelliria had already strung her bow, and had an arrow nocked, as she looked to Itheal for a command. Aric had pulled twin axes from his belt, while Itheal himself pulled out a deadly-looking glimmering broadsword. He nodded to Kelliria and she let the arrow loose, and it sank into the nearest ghoul's throat, before exploding in a small burst of arcane energy. The undead was torn in all directions, his limbs splattering his companions, as they all spun to face their assaulters.

Just as Nalannai straightened up, wiping her mouth, there was a roar as the Scourge charged forward. The elves and Aric bunched together, swords pointing outward, slashing and stabbing at any corpse within sight. _This is almost too easy! _Aleinia thought, detaching an undead's head from its body distractedly. Within mere moments, the undead were simply _lifeless _bodies, rather than animated ones. Glancing around, she noted that Kelliria, Sanaden, Aric, and Itheal still looked on edge, tighteining their grips on the hilts of their weapons.

"Itheal," She whispered softly, attempting to still Sereno as he danced nervously underneath her, away from the dead Scourge. "Are…are they suppose to go down that easily?" He frowned, nudging a carcass with his foot.

"No. Not at all." He muttered, and shivered involuntarily, remembering the invasion of Silvermoon. Then, it took several decapitating blows to even hinder the beasts, but here, they went down with little resistance. Biting his lip, painful memories assailed his mind; his neighbors being slaughtered, his home burned, his brother viciously cutting down all Scourge in his path, his eldest sister's death… He was jolted from his memories by Aric.

"Nor were they this easily defeated when attacked my farm…" he rasped, dismounting his skeletal steed and kneeling by the Scourge. "If anything, they were unstoppable. Perhaps…a distraction perhaps? Have we been duped?" The possibility had occurred to Itheal, who furrowed his brow.

"A possibility, to make us feel safe, and to underestimate the Scourge. But why? This group was obviously mindless, but someone obviously knew we were coming here…" He pondered aloud, and looked sharply at Aleinia as she gasped. She had immediately paled, and her burning eyes grew wide as she covered her mouth with her gauntleted hands.

"Yes, Alei?" He asked, and she swallowed visibly.

"Back at the Estate…that apprentice, there was something off about him. And when we left, I thought I heard him speaking, but there wasn't anyone accompanying him…I think that, maybe he notified _someone _of our position." She whispered and Itheal's own eyes widened.

"You're sure, Alei?" Kelliria asked gently, and Aleinia nodded vigorously.

"I saw his shadow…" She remembered. "He had lifted up and object near his face. I assume that is what he was speaking to." Itheal cursed loudly.

"Be on your guard!" He called, and Mathus jumped, reaching for the hilt of his shortsword. "By the Sunwell, when I get my hands on that filthy piece of…" He was cut off by Mathus's shout.

"Large group of Scourge approaching from the south!" He yelled, backing up, almost bumping into Sanaden. "Covering ground fast, approximately thirty of them." Kelliria swore, fumbling in her pack for a few small explosives she carried with her at all times. Finding them, she cursed again, unable to find her flint, until Aric tossed her his own flint. She nodded her thanks, and waited, poised to throw, until the Scourge was in range. They were in a few moments, converging upon the armored group with a ferocity rarely seen, tearing and ripping at anything they could reach, before Kelliria could set ff her explosives. The ranger leaned back, losing her balance for a instant as a clawed hand swung towards at her neck, missing by a hairsbreadth. Settling back into her saddle, she whistled for her lynx companion, drawing her deadly daggers from their sheaths, stabbing around in a frenzy.

The Scourge had driven a wedge between the elves, and were slowly separating them further, so each warrior was on their own, to face their foe.

Sereno screamed and reared in a panic, leaving Aleinia to cling to his neck for her life, until he returned to the ground, smashing the head of an opponent with his hooves. Unsteadily, she tried to look around for her compatriots, and paled, realizing how far apart they had been driven. What she didn't notice was the skeletal warrior coming up on her left side, rasing the his axe, and slamming its hilt into Sereno's side. The stallion reared again, making Aleinia scream as she was thrown to the ground. She lay there stunned, mentally screaming in pain. Instinct prompted her to ignore it, wipe away the blood running into her eyes from a cut on her forehead, and avoid being, well, killed.

She rolled to the side, the axe that had previously slammed into Sereno thudding into the ground where her head just was, before gritting her teeth and thrusting her sword upward, slicing at its neck. The flesh and bone gave way easier than she would have thought, and the ghoul's head rolled off its body, as black blood dripped onto Aleinia. Holding back a gag, she ignored it, attempting to stand upright. Another skeleton charged at her, and she barely threw up her blade in time to block him, before kicking him in the ribs, her steel-clad foot breaking the ribs easily, and continued on, snapping the undead's spine. Bone fragments bounced off her chain-mail as she struggled to remove her foot, seeing a Nerubis heading her way. Before she could slay it, though, Sanaden stood protectively in front of her, easily killing the spider-like creature.

"Heard you scream," He panted, and Aleinia noted a shallow cut across his face, his helm probably knocked off at some point. He too, was without his stallion.

"Thanks," She murmured, attempting to still her shaking limbs. Taking a deep breath, she shook the last of the bones from her boot, before raising her sword again, about to begin eradicate the Scourge again, when Sanaden's shout stopped her.

A pale, sickly looking, human warlock had emerged from the ranks of undead, and had stopped in front of Sanaden, who had raised his broadsword, looking unsure. He had never fought a magic-user before, Aleinia realized, none of them had. With a battle-cry, the young man charged forward, leveling his sword at the human's chest, looking to carve his heart out. The man simply cackled, and waved his hand, saying some strange words in a sinister tongue. Biting her tongue, she had to turn away when to put her blade through the throat of another Nerubis, before attempting to run to Sanaden's aid.

The human had put him in some sort of magical prison, leaving Sanaden to thrash wildly at his dark bindings to no avail. The Warlock leered horribly, before raising his other hand, dark energy swirling around his fingers. With a single demonic word, the energy had transferred to Sanaden, making him screech in pain. Aleinia stared, revulsion rising in her throat in the form of bile, as the life was siphoned out of her friend, every second was leaving him looking less like a muscular young paladin and more like a shriveled husk. In less than a few moments, the warlock had released him, allowing the paladin to drop to the ground, dead.

Her hands trembling, she hefted her warblade, charging at the warlock with a scream of anger. She cleaved the sword in a downward arc, aiming to slice the Scourge warlock in half, but he simply laughed, and with a twitch of his fingers, knocked the blade to the side. In less than a second, he had her in the same dark prison than Sanaden had been in moments before. She stared in horror, realizing what he was about to do, and closed her eyes, ready to die. And she thought she would, with the pain that beset her body and mind, feeling like a thousand rusty daggers in her gut, being twisted and turned.

Death did not come however, and she was dropped unceremoniously onto the blood soaked ground, her left leg landing at an awkward angle. She gritted her teeth, disregarding the pain, already knowing it was broken. She open her eyes to see what the warlock was doing, and saw instead a mounted Itheal, a snarl on his face. He had come behind the warlock, slicing the monstrosity's head clean from its shoulders. Riding forward, he quickly swept her up in front of him, wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her in place. Everything began to dim, and she shook her head to clear her mind.

"Itheal!" She whispered foggily, her eyes blurring with tears. "They killed Sanaden. They killed him," She repeated the fact, over and over, her own mind not registering it. She didn't notice the tears running down his face, dripping onto her hair.

"I know, Alei," he murmured, his voice shaking, "I know."

The wind whipped past her face as Phantom ran towards the Tranquillian, retreating from the skirmish, and she vaguely noticed Nalannai, Mathus, Kelliria, and Aric riding beside them, with Nalannai leading Sereno. Every few moments, her friend would gaze at her worriedly, before glancing backwards, seeing if they were being pursued.

And then everything went black.

I have realized that action/fighting scenes are **definitely **not my forte. And my fingers hurt. A lot. I've neer written a chapter this long in my life, and it's not quite great... Mein Gott! I almost cried when I realized I just killed off San. He was actually one of my favorites (though I love Mathus and Aric :3)

Reviews are appreciated, cherished, and loved by Itheal, Mathus, Nala, Alei, Aric, and, post-humously, San.

-Feareth


	5. Chapter Four

Blood Knights

Sorry about the late update guys…lack of motivation has struck me with it's foul sword. And yes, I have been reading Shakespeare lately. Has anyone read this book, Ophelia, by Lisa Klein? It's like a rewrite of Hamlet. And it's wicked good.

And going along with Mr. Shakespeare, my brothers just came back from England, and over there, they got me this mug with a ton of Shakespeare quotes on it. Like;

'_All eyes and no sight'_

and…

'_I desire we be better strangers' _

And a ton of other ones. Tis my favorite mug at the moment

_**Blood Knights**_

_Chapter IV_

Aleinia gulped, staring up at the spire of the Blood Knight Chapel, which had once been a place dedicated to the Light. It was now used for funerals, coming-of-age ceremonies, marriages, and promotions of Blood Knights. The first of these was what she was here for. She didn't realize her knees were trembling violently until they knocked together, shocking her out of her reverie.

"We will get you after the funeral, Aleinia." Her father murmured, placing his hands on her shoulders, and lightly kissing her forehead. As they were not close to Sanaden, and as low ranking Knights, her father, her brothers, mother and sister would be seated in the back of the chapel, whereas Aleinia would be in the first row. Aleinia nodded mutely as they filed through the doors, each one pausing to give her some action of comfort; a hug and kiss from her mother, a kiss on the cheek from Jeferus, Fariner, a pat on the shoulder from Nathalis, Charian, and Pathyon, and a hug from Pyronus. Jannisal averted her eyes for a moment as she passed, before gently embracing her little sister. Aleinia was shocked for a moment, before hugging her darker-haired sibling back.

"I hope, little Alei," Jannisal whispered, eying the trainee sadly, "That you will reconsider you're choice of lifestyle. There is still time for us to find you a proper husband." A flash of anger coursed through Aleinia, and she pushed Jannisal away.

"Are you still going on about that? Jann, I told you that I _want _to be a Blood Knight, not marry some incompetent fool who can only blather on about how wonderful he is!" Aleinia spat, her voice cold. "If I marry, it will be for love, and I don't even want kids!" Jannisal sniffed, looking away.

"You're causing a scene, Aleinia." She said finally. "But if this is the course you wish to take, then do not come to me when you find yourself abandoned, lost and likely with child, left by a man who had claimed he 'loves' you. I tell you again, if you simply let mother and I find a suitable man for you, it will be fine. An arranged marriage will keep you safe, instead of risking your life every day."

"Oh, oh yes Jannisal. Because Helynia and Zalithe Dawnstar are so _safe." _She spat out the word as if she had a bitter taste on her tongue. "They had an arranged marriage, and to Lord Dawnstar no less! And now Helynia is dead. Along with the other three wives he killed. Have you ever seen Zalithe? He barely lets her out of the house! And when you do see her, it is obvious that he beats her, just because she hasn't borne him any children! And do you _know _how great of a rogue she used to be? She was the stuff of legends, but now she's just a ghost of her former self, all because of these arranged marriages." Jannisal stared at her in shock for a moment, before pursing her blood red lips and entering the chapel. Quivering, Aleinia sat down on the bench, and unclenched her hands, not even realizing she had clenched them in the first place. Tiny droplets of crimson blood rolled down her wrist from her palm, where her nails had bitten into her skin, and soaked into the sleeve of her white blouse, leaving tiny blots in the fabric.

"That, my friend," Itheal murmured, sitting next to her, "was some speech." She raised her head, embarrassed, her cheeks turning red.

"You…you heard that?" She mumbled, and he nodded, smiling.

"It was rather impressive, actually." He stated, taking her wrist and examining her palm. "Everyone always hushes up what Old Dawnstar does to his wives. It's nice to see that someone actually knows what's going on." He ran a finger along the cuts, and his hand glowed gold for a moment, as the cuts seemed to disappear. She vaguely remembered him doing the same thing to her leg and other injuries during the pain-filled haze that was the ride back to the Tranquillian. She remembered him carrying her into the inn, up the stairs and gently laying her on a bed. And then- at this memory, her cheeks colored even more- his lips, cool on her forehead, and his voice, trembling as he whispered in her ear, thinking she was out of it; '_Don't leave me Alei. I can't lose both you _and _San.' _

For a brief moment, she forgot about San, and what had transpired in the Dead Scar, just gazing at Itheal. The last memory, though, brought her back. _'I can't lose you _and _San.' _

It was still hard to believe that he was dead.

She met Itheal's eyes, and saw her thought reflected there. Tentatively, he reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I know Alei. It's hard." He whispered, as she blinked away tears. _Hard? That's the understatement of the century right there…_She thought bitterly, unable to look away from his eyes.

"Ahem" A voice coughed in front of them, and Itheal and Aleinia both looked up sharply to see none other than the Blood Knight Matriarch, and the First Blood Knight herself, Lady Liadrin. Aleinia gasped, springing up to salute, realizing how she and Itheal must have looked. Though she wasn't particularly against the thought, they might have been mistaken for lovers, with the way he was holding her hand, his other hand on her shoulder, and how their gazes were locked.

"My…my lady," Aleinia stuttered, desperately hoping that Lady Liadrin had made no such mistake. Liadrin seemed to not notice her discomfort as she looked her and Itheal over.

"At ease Lightstrike, Bloodstriker," She murmured, and the two relaxed, placing their hands behind their backs. "I have something for you to hear, but I wish for the Everwind and Fireveil to be present as well." As they stood, rail straight, Lady Liadrin raised an eyebrow. "If I know the Everwind well enough, he won't be here for some time, so you might as well sit down." She said finally, sitting on the long bench herself. After glancing at each other, they did the same.

"Surely Mathus Everwind would not be late for his own comrade's funeral?" Lord Bloodwrath remarked, seating himself next to the Lady, not even giving Itheal and Aleinia time to bow.

"Certainly not, Solanar," She responded, raising her eyebrows, and pointing to the other end of the Farstrider's Square, where Mathus was approaching, Nalannai in the circle of his arms. She waited until the two were closer before waving them over. She met Lord Bloodwrath's eyes for a moment, before turning to the four, who were decked out in their dress uniform, which consisted of loose red breeches, black boots, a white shirt and the Blood Knight Tabard.

"Solanar and I have discussed this at length," She started, "And although you have suffered a great loss, your group's progress and skill has been impressive over these last three years. We have decided that it is time to promote you to Blood Knight Adepts. No doubt Itheal shall explain your new training regimen to you." She paused for a moment, biting her lip. "I am truly sorry for your loss," She said finally, and murmured a blessing to the four of them before walking off with Lord Bloodwrath.

Nalannai's eyes brightened marginally at this news, though they were still dull with grief. Mathus though, could only look at the ground bitterly.

"San always talked about this day, when we would be promoted to Adepts, and then Blood Knights," He whispered resentfully. "How is it fair that we should continue on, while death cheats him of his dream?"

This sobered them even further, and Nalannai began to tear up, hiding her face against Mathus's tabard. Gritting his teeth, Itheal called out;

"Lady Liadrin!" She stopped and looked at him.

"Yes, Bloodstriker?" She murmured, as he rested a hand on Nalannai's shoulder.

"That mage, Vekor. What did you find of him?" He inquired and Lady Liadrin frowned.

"He was not Master Kaendris's apprentice, of that we are certain." She sighed. "We captured him, and brought him to Silvermoon. Inside the building we found Master Kaendris's real apprentice, Vor'el, dead. Vekor refuses to talk, but we suspect he was an agent for the Scourge."

"I want to see him." Itheal said flatly, and Lady Liadrin shook her head.

"I can't allow you too, Itheal. At least not yet." She told him, as Solanar looked on. For the third time in her life, Aleinia saw Itheal truly angry. The first had been when a drunkard was harassing Aleinia and Nalannai, on Nalannai's fifteenth birthday. The second was in the Ghostlands, when the warlock killed Sanaden.

"What do you _mean _you can't allow me too? You're the leader of the Blood Knights!" He demanded, his voice growing louder. "That bastard was the one who called the ambush that killed San, and almost killed Alei! I could strangle him!"

"That's exactly why I cannot allow you to see him, Itheal," She said gently. "Between the death of Sanaden and almost of Aleinia, you are- forgive me for saying so- an emotional wreck. I can't trust you to not murder him. Now, I believe it is time for the funeral."

/**x\x**/**x\**

"We gather here today, my friends, to celebrate the life of Sanaden Goldwing, a proud, heroic, chivalrous member of the Blood Knights."

The priest's voice echoed throughout the drafty, high-roofed chapel, assailing Aleinia's ears and triggering painful memories. She bit her lip, and clenched her black Blood Knight tabard in her hands, her vision blurring. Desperately trying to hold the tears back, she glanced at Nalannai, who was trying to stand straight, but was failing miserably, having to wipe her wet eyes every five seconds. Mathus wasn't much better, and Aleinia wondered whether the arm he placed around Nalannai's was to comfort his companion or himself.

Blood Knights were scattered throughout the room, and Aleinia was shocked to see almost every one in their service attending the funeral. It was generally accepted that these Paladins should attend the funeral of one of their own, yet she suspected that this was not the case. She would even say that most were there out of sorrow at the Goldwing's death, for Sanaden had wormed his way into almost everyone's hearts.

"Sanaden," The priest continued, "Was a truly talented young man, and his death is a wound of the heart for us all. He was kind and chivalrous to elves of all ages and a fierce foe to his enemies."

For the second time that day, a flash of anger coursed through Aleinia's veins as she glared at the ground. _How dare he! How dare he speak of San as if he knew him? Does know that San hated rainy days? That he hated ants and spiders and the like? That he was a closet romance lover? That he always wanted to meet a Dark spear Troll? That he had a crush on Nala but would never court her, since Mathus was like a brother to him? He doesn't know a single thing about San. _

She hated funerals, she decided. She hated it _here. _The walls seemed to press in on her, suffocating her. There was Sanaden's mother, silently bawling her eyes out, as Sanaden's younger brother, clung to her skirts, desperately trying not to cry. The huntress from the Ghostlands sat by Kelliria, shaking, as Kelliria and Aric bowed their heads mournfully. Melina Fireveil wiped her eyes shakily as Lord Goldwing stared sadly at the casket.

Why did it have to be so damn sad? Why did he have to die? She felt like her heart was being torn into pieces, bit by bit. She made the mistake of glancing at Sanaden's younger brother; he had begun to cry, a pathetic whimpering sound that was covered by the priest's voice. _Why is death necessary? _Her vision blurred. _Why did you have to die, San? Why'd you leave us?_ She couldn't take it…

A strangled cry escaped her lips, and she fought her way from the row of seats, tears spilling down her cheeks, before running out the door.

**/x\x/x\**

Itheal moved to go after her, but Ithalis grabbed his upper-arm lightly, keeping his eyes forward.

"I wouldn't go, brother," Ithalis said softly.

"She's my student," He protested, but Ithalis shook his head.

"Or is she more than that, Itheal?" Ithalis murmured, glancing down at him with soulful eyes. Itheal didn't catch his meaning, and furrowed his brow.

"And one of my closest friends," Itheal continued, prompting Ithalis to sigh.

"It is alright for her to run out; she has not been through anything like this." He scolded quietly, "You, however, would cause no end of disapproval from Lady Liadrin, Lord Bloodwrath, and the rest." Itheal said nothing, but returned to a sitting position.

**/x\x/x\**

Aleinia didn't know where she was running; she just wanted to get away from that depressing hole of a chapel. From the casket, where Sanaden's blank eyes stared at her.

Finally, she came to a stop in a back alley, near the tavern which was owned by the Silvermoon City Inn. Her legs trembling, she sank against the wall and placed her head on her knees, her sobs echoing in the small space. Later, she would realize she wasn't crying _just_ for Sanaden; she was crying for everything that had been lost. For the huntress from the Ghostlands, who had loved Sanaden. For Nalannai and Mathus, who would never be the same. For Itheal, who blamed himself. For Vor'el, who had been murdered. Lastly, for herself, for she had lost one of her best friend, which hurt more than losing her hand ever could.

As her sobs subsided, she raised her head for a brief moment. The stars glittered cruelly down at her, but as she moved her hand, the ring she wore on her left ring finger caught the light of a nearby lantern and blinded her for a moment. She raised it to her eyes, tracing the fancy '_A' _that was engraved there.

"_We're all going to live, no matter what anyone else says."_

"Yeah, San, we're all going to live," She whispered bitterly, "That's exactly why you're lying in a coffin." She thought she was cried out, but here came the tears again, spilling down her cheeks, wetting her lips. With flash of frustration, she tugged the ring off her hand, tossing it away from her with all her might. "Damn it, San, you lied," she muttered, ignoring the shadow that fell over her.

"Little elfing," A deep voice rumbled above her, and she looked up, and bit back a gasp at seeing what it was. "Do you really want to throw something this nice away?" A thick green hand placed the ring back in her palm.

Before her stood an Orc, and behind him, a Troll. The Orc was massive, compared to her tiny frame, and small tusks jutted up from beneath his lower lip. His broad face was covered in a graying beard, giving him a grandfatherly look, and though she would initially think the sight of him was terrifying, his brown eyes were kind. The black and grey hair upon his head hung to his broad shoulders, tied in two loose, thick braids, and he wore the tabard of the Horde, though he dressed in plain cloth.

The troll behind him was much younger and his crimson hair almost glowed, along with his amber eyes. His tusks were huge, and she assumed (from what she had read of trolls) that they were a source of pride for him, and a few ornaments hung off of them. Her eyes were drawn to the numerous tattoos covering his arms, ranging from a diamond-shape design, to a snake, and then to a beautiful tree on his right shoulder. A drum was slung across his back, decorated with bold patterns and colors, similar to the troll's own garb. Unconsciously, Aleinia's eyes were drawn to the spear and hammer he carried.

"Yeah," She mumbled, "I do. The promise it represented is broken, so what is it worth?" She was aware that she was being astoundingly rude to these men, who were possibly ambassadors, but at the moment she didn't care. Instead of striking her, as she half expected him to do (Hadn't it been said that the other races of the Horde were uncivilized beasts, only able to solve problems through violence?), he kneeled next to her, wincing as he rubbed his knees.

"Ya knees still botherin' ya mon?" The troll asked, crouching as well, "Tell ya what. I be makin' ya a potion when we set up da camp." The Orc smiled, his tusks glinting menacingly.

"That would be nice, Darthen. These old bones don't move like they used to." He said, before turning to the elf. "What ails you, elf?" He asked, and she shook her head, hiding her tears.

"You be hurt by a lovah?" The troll, Darthen, suggested, and she scowled.

"Of course not. I'm seventeen, you dolt." She muttered. "Barely of age."

"Aye, alright, dun bite me head off," Darthen shot back, sitting cross-legged in front of her.

"A family fight, then?" The Orc questioned, and Aleinia frowned at him.

"Look, I appreciate it and all, but how do you expect me to bare my soul to you? You're a complete stranger." She whispered, blinking away tears. "I don't even know your name." The Orc chuckled slightly.

"If that was the problem, little elf, then you should have said." He chuckled again at the look on Aleinia's face, and held out a hand. "I am Mogoshi, a warrior of the Horde, and that is Darthen, our infantry's 'Drummer Boy', so to speak." At this, Darthen made a face, and she could have sworn it was a pout. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, and glared at the ground.

"I be a witch-docta in trainin' mon." He snapped. "Not some pathetic Drumma Boy. I jus' like da drums."

"Yes, yes, of course, Darthen." Mogoshi consented, a small smile crossing his face. "Now who are you, elfling?" Aleinia hesitated for a moment, before taking his hand and shaking it.

"Aleinia Lightstrike, Blood Knight Trainee." She murmured, and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"Any particular reason you were crying, Aleinia?" Mogoshi questioned, making Aleinia sigh, leaning against the wall, and crossed her arms across her chest. These two obviously weren't going to leave her alone…

"I…my best friend, he…he died." She muttered, her eyes watering. "He was slaughtered by the Scourge." At this, the frown dropped off Darthen's face, and he stopped sulking. Looking sympathetic, he rested a three-fingered hand on her shoulder, seemingly not noticing as she flinched involuntarily.

"Survivah's guilt, mon?" he asked, and Mogoshi looked at her curiously. Aleinia swallowed and shuffled her feet, producing a clinking sound from her steel-soled boots.

"Yeah. I suppose you could say that." She muttered, looking at the ground. Mogoshi smiled down at her in a fatherly way.

"Well, elfing, there's a situation I _am _familiar with. Come on. We can discuss it over drinks."

Sitting at the tavern, Aleinia had cheered up considerably, thanks to Mogoshi's and Darthen's efforts. As she sipped her water, though (and as Darthen and Mogoshi downed what seemed like two kegs of ale, without even getting tipsy) she noticed that, other than the barkeep, she was the only Blood Elf in the spacious room, among a lot of other orcs, tauren, Forsaken, and trolls. A tap on the shoulder brought her back to her conversation.

"So, you like dis…'Itheal' guy, aye?" Darthen asked, and Aleinia paused, her glass resting on her lips. Would there be any point in lying? Darthen and Mogoshi, from what she'd seen, were nice guys, and she'd most likely never see them again…She smiled softly at him as she set her glass down onto the table.

"Y-yeah. I really do." She murmured, glancing at her hands and blushing faintly. Darthen grinned at her, tugging her long ear, much like his own, gently.

"Good, mon. Jus' dun let 'im become ya life." He warned and she grinned back.

"Of course not…" Eager to change the subject, she asked; "I heard that there's a _night elf _that joined the Horde. Kyria Nightwhisper or something?"

"_Kiara _Nightwhisper," Mogoshi corrected, "And yes, she has joined the Horde. She was banished from the Alliance, and Thrall took her in."

"Have you two met her?" Aleinia inquired, leaning in towards him.

"Aye." Darthen said dismissively "She be an ass, mon. Dunno why da Horde be takin' her. Rokhan on the other hand…." At the thought of him, Darthen's eyes lit up with admiration. "he really be somethin'." Mogoshi shook his head, and cuffed Darthen on his head, making the younger troll curse loudly.

"She is not an _ass, _whelp. She's just….cold to strangers. And you know that the Warchief has his reasons." Turning to Aleinia, he explained. "They found Kiara some time ago in Ashenvale, and discovered that she was the elf that released three Horde prisoners. Apparently, Staghelm banished her, and the Warchief took her in. She's been traveling around Azeroth with Rokhan the Younger, his sister, Zarai, and two tauren shamans, Mukar and Thenotha Swifthoof."

"Rokhan…as in the son of that great scout, Rokhan? That worked with Rexxar?" Mogoshi nodded.

"The very same." He responded, "And a talented scout himself, though he didn't have any desire to be a shadowhunter. Zarai is a gifted mage as well."

"An' she bet _hot, _mon." Darthen said, before sighing, sulking again. "She 'ates me though." Mogoshi patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"No she doesn't. She simply is trying to hint at the fact that you should go for someone younger. Like her sister perhaps; everyone knows Kalli has eyes only for you."

"Eh?" Darthen's eyes widened, "But she be meh best friend! We…I…nah, mon, she can't!"

"We talkin' bout meh family ovah here?" A voice asked, and Aleinia glanced up into amber eyes that were sparkling with mirth. A troll stood before them, leaning on the table casually. Dark blue-black hair stuck up out of his head at an impossible angle, and his skin was a light, sky blue. His body was relatively unadorned, compared to many trolls, though a few tattoos covered his arms.

"Hello, Rokhan," Mogoshi greeted, saluting the troll and the troll, Rokhan, waved lazily.

"'Ey dere, Mogoshi." He responded. "How's it goin'?"

"Ah…the normal stuff." He glanced at Aleinia in the corner of his eye. "Rokhan, this is Aleinia Lightstrike, a Blood Knight trainee. Aleinia, this is Rokhan the Younger." She smiled at him, and he grinned back at her.

"Well, 'ello dere Aleinia. And, Darthen, Kalli does love ya. You be all she talks about when I go home ta Sen'Jin." Darthen turned a furious red, twisting the empty mug in his hands.

"so, why are you here?" Mogoshi asked, and Rokhan averted his attention to him.

"An ambassador, mon. Dunno why they be sendin' me though. I be more likely ta doom dese negotiations. And o' course, bein' round Kiara doesn't quite make me the most diplomatic of people. Most o' da time when she bein' a stubborn ass, and refuses to go inta Night elf lands, I jus' throw 'er over meh shoulder and go." It was only there for a second, but Aleinia could have sworn she saw something cross Rokhan's eyes; something a little more than just admiration. Something a little more like love. She shuddered slightly; even though this Kiara might be part of the Horde, this particular cross-racial relationship could only bring trouble.

"Erm…Rokhan?" Darthen asked, blushing, his voice cracking from nervousness. "Could ya give dese ta Kalli when ya go back ta Sen'Jin? I made in meh spare time, and I tink she'll like em." He handed a sheaf of papers to Rokhan, and Aleinia caught sight of some amazing, realistic sketches of landscapes, people, and animals. Rokhan flipped through them, grinning.

"She'll love 'em mon. Meh sistah's got a soft spot fo' art like dis." At this, Rokhan seemed to remember his purpose. "I forgot ta tell ya mon. Dere be a big Orc ovah dere, and he looks pretty drunk. He's started goin' on about 'filthy Blood Elves' and he dun seem like da type who refrains from violence. I thought it might be a good idea if ya get da girl outta here." Mogoshi cursed, fiddling with his beard.

"That's Garonten. And you're right; he likes to use violence. A fat bully, if you put it simply." He muttered, and Aleinia, not thinking, stood on her chair, looking for who they were speaking of. Sure enough, on the other side of the room, a beefy, red-faced Orc was bellowing something unintelligible (and if she knew what he was saying, she had a feeling she certainly couldn't repeat it without blushing), yet obviously degrading of Blood Elves. For a moment, he looked over towards her, and their eyes locked. A feral grin crossed his face, and she made haste to sit back down and hide her head. Darthen muttered some profanities, attempting to take off his cloak. Finally, he succeeded, and dropped the dark cloth over her shoulders, pulling the hood over her head. It smelled slightly of the ocean, yet of a desert as well, she noticed vaguely.

Forcing her to stand, he and Mogoshi stood on either side of her, as Rokhan strode ahead, shoving his way to create a path to the door. The barkeep had wisely hidden behind the counter, sensing a brewing conflict, and was looking at helplessly at Aleinia, torn between helping a fellow elf, and saving his own skin. She met his eyes and shook her, mouthing the words '_Stay there, stay safe.' _He bit his lip, nodding.

"What'sh thish?" A voice slurred, and a hand pulled back the hood of Darthen's cloak, revealing her elongated ears, pale skin, and copper hair. She cried out in pain as Garonten grabbed her hair, which she had taken to wearing down, lifting her off the ground. "Looksh like we gots ourselvesh a pretty lil…pretty lil Blood Elf." He stumbled over his words, as Aleinia thrashed, unable to escape. Garnet's posse surrounded them, shoving back Darthen, Rokhan and Mogoshi.

"Stop this at once, Garonten! You are acting like a fool at best!" Mogoshi shouted, and Garonten glared at him.

"Shut your trap, old man." He snapped, shaking Aleinia for good measure. She whimpered softly, tears leaking out of corners of her eyes, before trying to kick him again. Eventually, her foot reached its target, nailing him in the stomach, though she would have preferred someplace…lower. He roared in pain, dropping her onto the ground and she fustily tried to crawl forward, praising the Sunwell that her boots had steel bottoms. Hands grabbed at her, shoving her back towards the beastly Orc, and ultimately, she was back at his feet, a little worse for wear.

"Bitch!" He seethed, pulling her up by the neck of her tabard, and slammed his fist into the side of her face. She cried out again, as she saw stars, and could have sworn she heard something crack. He pulled his fist back again, and just as he smashed it onto her face, she saw the barkeep stand up, shaking, and throw an empty bottle into the crowd, hitting some unsuspecting troll. The others took it as a cue and began to fight each other

'_Someone ought to knight that man,' _She thought vaguely, as Garonten punched her one last time for kicks, and she fell unconscious, knowing that Garonten would drop her, to go in search of livelier targets.

/x\x/x\

Itheal sighed, dropping his things inside the door as he stepped into his home. Sanaden's funeral had, well, sucked, to be blunt. And to make matters so much worse, he had been assailed by so many sympathetic friends of Sanaden after the funeral, that he couldn't even go find Aleinia. For all he knew, she could be…she could be captured by the Alliance, and being tortured by some filthy Night Elf or Human. He knew it was unlikely, but stranger things had happened.

His eyes wandered to his living room, where a light was flickering. Curious, he walked to it, to see a single candle burning on a table, lighting up the visage of a woman who was sitting on the lounge. She was beautiful, he knew, with short brown hair that covered one glowing eye, with seductive lips and large curves in the right places. _Physically beautiful,_ He thought to himself, _yet an ugly personality. _

"Itheal…" She purred, standing up, going to him.

"Tashia," He greeted curtly, looking away from her, knowing what she wanted. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her chest against him, as he frowned. He really did _not _want to deal with her right now.

"I thought I might have something to cheer you up," She whispered, pressing her lips against his. For a brief moment, a disturbing image flashed through his mind; it wasn't Tashia standing there, kissing him, it was Aleinia. It wasn't Tashia there, grasping his shoulders, and trailing a hand towards his pants, it was Aleinia. A little scared, he instinctively pushed Tashia away, shivering violently.

"I can't do this, Tashia, not now. Can you…just, please, leave." He muttered, taking a seat on a two-person chair. She stood in front of him for a moment, before making a 'humph' sound, and striding out the door.

Did he seriously just have thoughts like _that _about Aleinia, of all people? A small thrill ran through his body as he pictured what he had imagined again, before he shook his head. He couldn't do that to Aleinia; he was her teacher for god's sake! Yet the scene kept replaying in his mind, and he wondered what she looked like without her armor, the urge to explore her small body with his hands, to taste those soft pink lips. Without knowing what else he could do, he pinched his arm, to stop the thoughts, though it didn't quite work.

He started when the breeze blew open his door with a bang, the door that Tashia had neglected to shut. A walk would clear his mind.

/x\x/x\

Itheal sighed, shoving his hands in his pocket as he walked down the cobblestone street, staring at the night sky. Silvermoon was strangely quiet at night, the perfect atmosphere for rogues, warlocks and others that worked within the shadows. Well, perhaps it was quiet, except for the taverns, he thought, a wry smile twisting his lips as his ears caught the sound of a tavern brawl. _Perhaps there'll be someone there who has seen Aleinia…_he pondered this, before walking that way.

As he approached the tavern, three figures emerged; two were obviously trolls, with the telltale hunched posture, while the third was probably an Orc. The Orc was holding an elf-sized bundle, and Itheal watched them curiously. As they drew closer, he could see that they were a little bruised and scratched, and he was willing to bet all his money that they were escaping the fight.

"Hey, you three?" He called and as they came to a stop before him. "Have you seen an elf? She's about this tall," He gestured with his hands, "pale skin, and copper-colored ha-"he stopped abruptly, looking closely at the bundle. Sure enough, it was Aleinia, though her hair was mussed, three large bruises were spreading across her face, and blood had dried on her nose, mouth, and forehead. He had the faint suspicion that her jaw was broken, or at least cracked. He motioned for the Orc to hand her to him, but he drew back, eying Itheal warily.

"Who are you?" He asked, as Aleinia shifted in his arms. Itheal internally smacked himself for forgetting his manners.

"Itheal Bloodstriker," He introduced himself, and the three said their names in turn.

"Mogoshi." The Orc said.

"Rokhan the Younger," The first troll, with blackish-blue hair.

"An' I be Darthen. You be Alei's teacha?" he asked, and Itheal nodded, wondering how the young troll knew such a thing. Darthen eyed him for a moment. "Well, ya certainly fit da bill o' what she tol' us bout you." Itheal blinked, almost asking what she had said, but refrained, turning to Mogoshi.

"May I see her?" He asked, and Mogoshi hesitated, before easing the elf into his arms. She shifted again, curling up against his chest, making his heart beat a little faster. The other three watched him curiously as his hands glowed golden, as he probed her injuries. Of course, her jaw _was _broken, though that seemed to be the worst of it. _Whoever hit her had a strong arm, _He thought, healing her wounds, feeling her smile against his chest as warmth spread through her from the healing. He finally looked up, cleaning the blood off of her face with his own shirtsleeve.

At that moment, he realized he should take her home, but he had never thought about where she lived before. Whenever the topic came up, she had simply avoided the question. He decided to take her back to his home, wincing at the thought of the questions that would arise the next day.

"What happened?" He asked, and the Orc and younger troll took turns telling him what happened, falling in step with him as he walked to his home. He didn't realize that he was clutching her tighter to his chest until they reached his door.

"I'm going to keep Alei here tonight," he said, "You're welcome to stay as well, seeing as there's probably going to be turmoil back at your camp, from that Garonten guy." They all readily agreed, thanking him, and he nodded, showing them where to sleep. He set Aleinia on his own large, soft bed, and then hesitated. She was still in her full dress-armor, and he knew that it was highly uncomfortable. She couldn't sleep in it, yet he knew her morals would object if he, a guy, took it off for her. He frowned for a moment, mulling over the problem, before hurrying outside and next door.

As he knocked on the simply wooden door, he could see a light go on upstairs and soft footsteps hurrying down a flight of stairs. The door opened to reveal a kind looking older woman, who promptly threw her arms around Itheal, as if she hasn't seen him in a thousand years.

"Itheal!" She greeted, and he smiled slightly, hugging her back.

"Hi mom," He mumbled, aware of Mogoshi, Rokhan and Darthen watching him from his window. She released him, rubbing his arm gently.

"What's the reason for this late visit, honey?" She asked, still smiling. He flushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well…umm…I've got a girl staying at my house. It's Alei, but I have no idea where she lives, so I can't take her home. But I can't leaver her in full dress armor when she sleeps, and I can't undress her so I was wondering if you could…" She cut him off before he finished.

"Of course," She chirped, before making her way back inside. She reappeared a few moments later, a nightgown and a pretty white and gold dress over one arm.

"Those are Kistiana's." He said, curious. She smiled, patting his cheek lightly.

"Itheal, I know quite well who's they are. She _is _my daughter, I hope you realize. She doesn't need them anymore though; do you honestly think she'd fit in them with her pregnancy?" He nodded, following her as she brushed past him into his house.

/x\x/x\

"What happened to her?" His mother called through the door, and Itheal cocked his head, wondering how to word it.

"Let's just say she got on the bad side of an elf-hating Orc." He explained, and she fell silent. Finally, she opened the door, revealing Aleinia curled up on his mattress. Elisa's nightgown fit her perfectly, and he couldn't help but smile as she mumbled his, Nala's and Mathus's name in her sleep. His mother noticed the smile, and smirked slightly behind her hand.

"You know," She began, "about Tashia…"

"I know, mom, I should drop her like a rock," Itheal said quietly, pulling the sheets up over Aleinia. His mother blinked at him, before smiling at seeing the gentleness of his actions.

"Well, actually I was going to say that you should try to let her down gently. I know her type; spiteful, they are. If they don't go after you, they'll go after the next woman you date," At this, she looked pointedly at Aleinia, and Itheal was chilled by thought of anyone trying to hurt; well, anyone besides the Scourge, Burning Legion, Alliance, racist orcs, murlocs, basically the rest of the world…. She hugged him one more time, before heading out.

"I'll check on her again tomorrow, dear," She called softly, and he said nothing in response.

/x\x/x\

Itheal blew out a long breath, trying to find an unoccupied seat in his 'living room'. Finding one, he settled down, pulling the blankets over himself. _Talk about a day to throw a guy's emotions to hell, _He thoughts, closing his eyes.

* * *

Blech...the document editor is being a total butt-muncher. sooo...umm...peace out!

oohh...wait, I like this quote

'_You are my serenity, and when I think of you, I forget to breathe.' _- I got it out of this totally amazing book of lyrics, called 'Revolution on Canvas'. It's from the Indie music scene, and a lot of the lyrics CAN be interpreteted as political. But I love that kinda stuff :) The book is 100 pure win XD

Hmm...tell me what you think. Is that Mathus/Nala or Itheal/Alei? I like to hear my reviewers opinions.

-Feareth


	6. Chapter Five

Ugh...Sorry about updating so late guys! School just let out like three/four days ago, and the teachers were keeping us WAAAAYYY busy with a ton of projects. Ah, the wonder of it all.

One was sorta fun- we did this massive project where we were each assigned a country and had to research it. I chose Sudan, because one part, we got to do a presentation on anything we wanted from whatever country we chose, and I decided to do (no duh :P) the genocide in Darfur. Do you guys realize how many people asked me what Darfur was when I wore my 'Save Darfur' shirt? Well, It's good that they're asking, even if I did start giving a ethical/political/tottal insane rant to them.

So, now I'll stop ranting about school and get on with the story... (unless you'd like me to talk about this amazing anti-biotic I have to take that could possibly make me cry purple/orange/blue tears? My mom's betting on purple. Idk, but I'd like to see clear tears.)

soo, I know I say this a lot, but I absolutely HATE this chapter. Like TOTALLY hate it :P Ah well.

**!IMPORTANT!**

_**And on another note, I definitely agreed with what She-Ninja and Uruquiel2 said- so, as of now, I have taken Itheal's sister (or at least the dying part of it) OUT! MWAHAHA! erm...**_

**_And hopefully, at somepoint, i'll get around to fixing the part where I brought in the new characters. Thanks guys! :D _**

**_I've also changed around Tashia's character. I felt as though I made her very cliche, like the stereotypical bitch part. She's still not likeable, and I plan to keep it that when when she comes back in, in later chapters, but I hope I've fixed her for now._**

* * *

_**Blood Knights**_

_Chapter V_

Aleinia yawned, waking to the smell of pancakes and eggs drifting in from another room. Sighing, she closed her eyes, snuggling back into the covers, before trying to drift back into a light sleep, knowing that Jannisal would come over any second and chide her for sleeping late. The pillow smelled strange, like pine, almost like….almost like Itheal. Her eyes snapped open, which really didn't do much, seeing as her face was flat against the pillow. Cautiously, she reached out in both directions, as far as she could, yet her hands didn't reach the end of the mattress. Something was wrong; she could always reach from side to side on her own bed. Slowly, she turned over, and let out a yelp. She was, in fact, _not _in the room she shared with Jannisal. There was no second bed on the far wall, none of Jannisal's cheap perfumes and hair things, no Fariner and Pathyon running in and dumping freezing water over her head. Instead, the room was airy and spacious, not to mention very neat.

The bed itself was soft as feathers, and the sheets were made of silk, or so she thought. The walls were a simple white, as the sunlight and shadows from the window painted mesmerizing patterns on them. The only furniture in the room was the bed she was lying in, a nightstand (which had a thick book, _Rise of the Scourge, a _washbasin, and a small razor on it, as well as a candle) and a dresser. Upon the wall, she noticed, were several paintings; one of Aleinia, Sanaden, Nalannai, Mathus, and Itheal in their group portrait, then a separate on for all of them. A third painting was what she assumed to be a family portrait; there was a graying man and woman, as well as Ithalis Bloodstriker, and Itheal. Between them knelt a third person, a young woman, who looked about Aleinia's age. She had blonde hair, with bangs that swept across her forehead, and a light blue ribbon holding them in place. Her smile was warm and inviting, and seemed to light up her whole face. The last was also a girl, with a knowing smile. She seemed to be looking at something farther away, as she stood behind Ithalis, Itheal and the woman.

"So you're awake." A casual, deep voice said from the door, and she turned her head to see Itheal standing there, leaning against the doorframe. She stared at him in shock for a moment.

"W-where am I?" She asked, and he smiled at her.

"My home," He explained, "I found you last night after Mogoshi, Darthen and Rokhan got you out of the bar. They handed you over to me, and I had no idea where you lived, so I brought you back here."

"Oh," She mumbled, glancing at her hands, as she tended to do a lot. As she did so, she noticed her dress armor folded on a chair by the bedside. With a silent gasp, she pulled the covers off herself. She was clothed in a nightgown, made of fine silk, finer than her nicest clothing. Itheal smirked slightly when she pulled the covers off, as she gave him a fine view of her legs. His eyes lingered there for a brief moment, before dragged his gaze upward, towards her face, feeling sort of ashamed of himself. She met his eyes, looking scared.

"I…did you…" She trailed off, her eyes wide. He shook his head, amused by her reaction.

"No, my mother did." He responded and she let a sigh of relief before she could stop herself. A chuckle escaped his lips at her reaction.

"Come on out, when you're ready. Nala, Mathus, Darthen, Mogoshi, and Rokhan are here. We're waiting on you to start breakfast." He told her, and she smiled shyly at him.

"Alright. Thanks." She murmured. He simply stood in the doorway for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but finally smiled at her one more time, and walked down the hall. Now that she listened, she could faintly hear Darthen's and Rokhan's accents, Mogoshi's deep calm voice, and Mathus's loud jokes and laughs. _So his humor wasn't hurt by San's death, _She thought with a smile _That's good. _Nalannai, being, well, Nalannai, was too quiet to be heard, but there was a louder, feminine bird-like trill. The unfamiliar voice was coming closer, as she unsteadily swung her legs over the side of the bed. The voice stopped at the door, knocking lightly.

"Yes?" Aleinia called, and the door swung open, revealing a fragile looking older woman. Her face was kind, and her eyes were surrounded by crow's feet from smiling. She was a few inches taller than Aleinia, with the same small build. Though she was dainty, she seemed to have a hidden spirit, given away by her posture, one that betrayed her as having a will of steel. A will, Aleinia could guess, that came from being a mother.

"Ah, Itheal told me you were awake!" She chirped brightly, and Aleinia noticed the dress hanging over her arm. She gave it a strange look before looking at the other woman.

"I...um…I suppose I am," She said, before mentally smacking herself for sounding dumb. The woman simply smiled at her in a matronly way, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"How are you feeling, dear?" the woman asked, and Aleinia winced slightly.

"The best one can feel after being knocked unconscious by a butch Orc." Aleinia muttered, rubbing her head, noting the throbbing headache she hadn't realized she had. To her surprise the woman laughed, her green eyes lighting up. Aleinia paused, before shrugging it off, standing there awkwardly.

"You must be Itheal's mother?" Aleinia asked finally, holding out a hand. The woman completely ignored the proffered hand, and drew the younger girl into her embrace.

"How could I forget! What kind of mother am I if I cannot even remember my own manners?" She said, smiling. "I am Evalina Bloodstriker."

"Well...a pleasure to meet you, Lady Bloodstriker," She said, wondering where the hug came from.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Lightstrike," Evalina shot back, her eyes sparkling. "Itheal speaks of you all the time; it is an honor to finally meet you. Moving on though; this dress looks like it fits you, eh?" Aleinia paused, eying the older woman suspiciously.

"I suppose so…" She murmured, reaching for her dress armor. Holding up the white shirt and tabard, she sighed softly in irritation. They were ripped beyond recognition and blood-stained. She could certainly see herself bent over these wretched clothes for the next few weeks, by candlelight, and receiving a fair amount of needle-pricks. She never _was _one for household tasks such as sewing…

"Uhm…Mistress Bloodstriker?" Aleinia inquired weakly, fingering a hole in the pants. "Would you happen to have a spare pair of pants and shirt?" Flushing, she glanced at the floor fidgeting. "I mean, nothing nice or anything. Just a few rags or something, since my armor's ruined, and I can't walk around in a nightgown or anything, and I'll bring it right back after I get home and change…." She trailed off as Evalina began to chuckle quietly.

"Dear, why do you think I brought the dress with me?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. Aleinia continued to fidget.

"I…I don't know?" She muttered, scratching the back of her neck sheepishly. Evalina smiled.

"My daughter has been married, and she left these clothes at home for me to do as I wished with them. She seems to be your size, so let's see how they fit." She responded, pulling the nightgown over Aleinia's head. Aleinia squeaked in surprise, clutching her arms over chest, clad only in her bra and underwear, shivering as a breeze blew through the room, from the open window. Evalina seemed to notice as she hummed softly to herself, undoing the barely visible buttons on the back of the dress. Finishing, she tugged it onto Aleinia, not heeding the girl's weak protests. She finally stepped back, leaving Aleinia to straighten out the cloth, so it fell comfortably around her legs, brushing the floor.

"So it does fit!" Evalina proclaimed, clapping her hands in delight. "I knew you two looked the same size! It's perfect! Take a look in Itheal's mirror." She said, pawing through an invisible pocket, and produced a comb. Blinking, Aleinia turned around, and gaped.

The dress _did _fit perfectly. It looked strange on her though; she had never worn anything this fine in her life. The dress was a pure, snow white, with a gold cord at the waist, and hemmed with gold thread. The bell sleeves hid her hands, and the cloth, which felt more like water than cloth, clung comfortably to her.

"I...thank you for letting me wear this, Lady Bloodstriker…" Aleinia murmured, "I promise I'll come back with it." Evalina waved her hand dismissively.

"Keep it, please. Kistiana has no more use of it, and it looks wonderful on you. And please, call me Evalina." She scolded gently, and handed Aleinia the comb. "Now, your hair could certainly be neater, Aleinia." Aleinia winced, realizing what she said was so. Her copper waves, normally smooth, were a proper bird's nest at the moment, bunched up from sleep. She gingerly ran the teeth through her hair, her hands tightening on the ivory hilt as she hit a snarl. Multiple tugs, muffled curses, pulled hair, and red eyes later she moaned in pain, wondering what psycho ever created the comb, as she resisted an overwhelming sneezing sensation.

"There." Evalina murmured, stroking her hair. "I knew there was a pretty young girl under there." She said teasingly, tittering when Aleinia let out a sneeze.

"Please." Aleinia muttered. "Breakfast. Before I snap that comb in half."

--

Mathus was the first to notice her when she entered the kitchen behind Evalina. He raised his eyebrows when he turned his head from where he was lounging casually on Itheal's couch.

"Holy hell!" He exclaimed, succeeding in making everyone look at him. He pointed at Aleinia, dumbfounded. "There's a _girl _under all that armor!" Aleinia threw Mathus a withering look, crossing her arms across her chest in a mock offended manner.

"Why, thank you Mathus, for your wonderful insight!" She said in a false-sugary voice, before whacking him upside the head, making Nalannai giggle softly. Mathus cowered, his hands over his head, using Nalannai as a living-shield when she sat on the armrest next to him.

"All right, all right, how about there's a _pretty _girl under all the armor?" He asked, before turning to Nalannai, and wrapping his arms around her waist, as she struggled to stand and nuzzled his face in her lower back. "Of course, though, never as pretty as my sweet Nala." He murmured, grinning as she turned bright pink. Aleinia laughed quietly, accepting the steaming plate that Mogoshi offered her with silent thanks.

"You know, Mathus," Aleinia said dryly, raising her eyebrows, "I don't quite think that Nala had 'harassment' on her agenda for this morning." If possible, Nalannai flushed a deeper pink, looking at the ground.

"Aye, mon," Darthen said, raising his glass to Aleinia in greeting, "Keep da bedroom stuff to da bedroom, for Vol'jin's sake. I dun wanna see dat befo' I be eatin'. Or afta, fo' dat matter." Mathus simply muttered something incomprehensible, tugging Nalannai down beside him, burying his head in her neck, and producing a sound that sounded suspiciously like he was giving her a raspberry. She gasped, and poked him sharply in the stomach, to no avail. He continued to blow raspberries. Shaking her head in amusement, Aleinia turned her attention to the plate in front of her, not looking where she was going as she made her way to a table.

As every action has a consequence, so she supposed her consequence must be ending up in various situations that were…weird, sad, uncomfortable, and various other adjectives, with Itheal.

Thus, her nose made hard contact with his chest (her eyes were _barely _above his shoulder; he was tall….but, seriously). She stumbled backward, cursing under her breath, and clutching her now sore nose. The plate she had been holding flew upward in a graceful arc; well, the plate itself, that is. The food _on_ the plate was an entirely different matter. Aleinia covered her head and shrieked as she was pelted with scrambled eggs and other breakfast foods. Itheal's eyes widened, and he lunged forward to catch the plate before it hit the ground, breathing a sigh of relief as the china fell into his hands, unbroken. Only then, did he look at Aleinia, before laughing.

The disgruntled girl had a large hunk of egg hanging in her hair, along with bits of bacon. Pieces of toast clung to her dress, and there was a rather large slice of orange hanging off her nose. Mathus was doubled over in laughter, almost crying. Everyone else was too.

Aleinia slowly turned her head, her eyes narrow, focused on Mathus. Without a word, she reached up, grabbed the egg from her hair, and chucked it at the jokester. He looked surprised for a moment, as it slid off his forehead, before grinning evilly, and throwing it back. Instead though, Aleinia ducked, using her reflexes to her advantage, and the scrambled delight hit Darthen in the face.

And thus, the food fight began.

Once they were finished with their childish antics, and had cleaned themselves up, they were all sitting around the largest table that Itheal owned. The Blood Knight glanced around for a moment, resting his chin on his hands.

Were they ready for what he was going to propose?

Mathus; he was already an amazing fighter, able to beat some of _Itheal's _superiors. His mana supply was astonishing, if you got a mage to check him out, though you wouldn't suspect it if you just met him.

Nalannai... She was truly a surprise. Like Mathus, she was a fighter. Underneath the frail looking exterior, she had a will of steel, yet he didn't believe she had a mean bone in her body. A sense of justice? Yes. But not mean. Never mean…

At last, his gaze rested on Aleinia. He could certainly picture her as a paladin…like her teammates, she possessed all the neccassary traits of a paladin. She was a damn good swordsman, she had a steady mana supply, she never backed down, and she had a sense of justice. A smile tugged at his lips.

He cleared his throat to gather the attention of the inhabitants of the table. After a few moments, the talking stopped.

"I have an offer for you three." He began, and then quickly clarified his words. "My students, that is. I-" Of course, with his luck, there was a knock at the door. With a frustrated moan, he shoved his chair back, taking a deep breath before greeting whoever was visiting.

In front of him stood Tashia. He winced, glancing back to see his guests at the table, before looking back to the warlock. They were all throwing him curious looks, so he raised his index finger in a 'one second' signal, before stepping outside, closing the door behind him. Her face folded into a glower as he did so.

"What, you can't even stand to have me inside your house anymore?" She snapped, and he flushed, running a hand through his messy hair.

"I-It's not that, Tash." He murmured, and her scowl darkened even more. "Whatever I di-"

"Don't use that nick-name, jerk." She seethed, poking him sharply in his chest. He let her, and looked at her in confusion.

"What did I do, Tash…I'm sorry, I mean Tash_ia?" _She snorted derisively.

It's...it's just you! What is your problem?" She fumed. He raised his eyebrows.

"What did I _do?" _He asked, and she narrowed her eyes.

"I can't stand you sometimes! Everything is always about 'Blood Knights' this, and 'Blood Knights' that. You never even talk to me, you barely ever want me around! Have you ever once asked me how my day was? Sure you're nice, and respectful, but would you at least pretend you _care _sometimes? Do you even like me?" He winced and his silence was enough to answer her question. For a moment, she looked like she was about to burst into tears, but instead took a deep breath, and drew herself up.

"Alright. Fine. I'm sorry I bothered you. I'll see you around sometime." She turned around, and began to walk away, when he stopped her.

"Tash…I…I'm sorry. Really, I am." He whispered, catching her in a hug. "I like you, but as a friend, a comrade. I just…don't love you like that." She sniffled into his shoulder.

"Yeah…" she muttered. "I understand." They stood in silence, caught in a friendly hug, before Itheal finally pulled away, smoothing hair away from her forehead.

"So, we're okay, right?" He posed the question, and she nodded, wiping her eyes and giving him a watery smile.

"Yeah." She whispered again, before tweaking his nose weakly. "In fact, I've had my eye on this new warlock that just arrived in Silvermoon." She winked, and he was slightly relieved. So she hadn't been in love with him either…

"I'll see you around sometime." He said with a small smile, and opened his door, watching her walk away, before returning to his seat.

"So, what was it that you were saying?" Mathus asked, through a mouthful of his breakfast, followed by a gulp of water.

"That you should probably chew and swallow before you choke. Though I don't think any of us would be particularly sad if you chooked…" Itheal retorted, pulling back his chair and settling down. Mathus grinned, before deliberately shoving more food in his mouth.

"what was that again?" Itheal was barely able to make out the words through his muffled speech. Rolling his eyes while repressing a grin, he turned his attention back to the table.

"Anyway, I had a proposition for you." He began. "As Lady Liadrin told you yesterday, you have been promoted to adepts. With this, you gain more responsibility, respect, and a whole new training regimen." Nalannai cocked her head, eying him, while biting her lower lip.

"Itheal are you saying…" She trailed off, raising her eyebrows. "That we're going to train with _that?" _

Itheal nodded. "Starting today, should you agree, I'll be teaching you to control the Naaru." A shocked silence settled over the table, eventually broken by Mathus's whoop of excitement. Mogoshi and Rokhan on the other hand, frowned disapprovingly, crossing their arms over their chests and sharing a knowing glance. Nalannai and Aleinia couldn't keep the grins off of their face, while Evalina sat back, something akin to pride glowing on her face.

"Dare I take this as a yes?" Itheal inquired as his students nodded vigorously. Darthen stared around in astonishment.

"_Control _the Naaru?" He echoed hollowly. Itheal nodded, making the drummer boy frown. "Dun that seem kin'a…I dunnno, _wrong _mon?" Another silence settled over the table, like a smothering wool blanket, as the Blood Elves glanced away, their lips creased downward.

"No. It is simply retribution." Itheal said finally. "The Light abandoned us in our time of need. We shall no longer bow down and pray for powers. Why should we, when we can simply call upon it when we need it?" The stony silence continued. "Do your Witch-Doctors not bend spirits to their will? Your priests?"

"No, mon." Rokhan spoke now, his eyes filled with anger. "Me dad and the otha doctas don't bend da spirits. Dat would be suicide. Dey work wit them, banish da evil ones. Dey come to…agreements. But dey be thinkin' that bendin' a spirit against it's will be _wrong." _He seethed. Mogoshi nodded his agreement, resting a hand on the Blood Knight's shoulder.

"Perhaps you think that the Light abandoned you, but …perhaps it was a moment of misjudgment." Itheal swung his piercing gaze to the orc.

"I do not mean to offend, but you obviously did not live through the invasion of Silvermoon." He hissed. "You obviously didn't desperately cut down the abominations of the Lich King, only to have two more take the place of the one you just killed. You obviously didn't see innocent civilians being hunted down like rabbits. You didn't see your fellow paladins being mauled because, they were too exhausted to fight. You didn't see _children _being torn apart." His voice was empty except for bitterness that spoke volumes as his fists clenched. "And then, when you couldn't even heal the suriviors. When the humans and the rest of their pitiful alliance offered no aid."

Itheal, Aleinia noticed worriedly, was dangerously close to tears as painful memories were uncovered. She too, remembered the invasion from the tender young age of seven. Her most vivid memory was a clawed hand reaching towards her, before Charion threw himself at the attacker with a hoarse cry, slicing the appendage clear from the wrist, before chopping it to pieces.

"Do you still see the scars when you entered out city? Do you see the look in the eyes of the survivors? Time doesn't heal us. We will not forgive the Light and the Alliance for how we were betrayed. There is no reason for us to belittle ourselves by praying for help and guidance, nor identify ourselves with the filthy humans and dwarves by sharing the same abilities." His shoulders shaking, he raised his eyes once again to meet those of his guests, whom were all staring at him with expressions ranging from sympathy, to shock, to understanding. Still shaking, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push back the sudden memories.

Acting solely on instinct, Aleinia pushed her chair back, walking over to her trainer. Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around him, and much to her surprise he clung to her like she was his last lifeline, like she was driftwood and he was floating at sea. After what seemed like hours, he released her, smiling apologetically. She nodded, swallowing hard as she returned to her seat.

"I….I apologize for my outburst." Itheal whispered, running a hand through his hair. "It was uncalled for." Mogoshi shook his head, fingering his graying beard thoughtfully.

"Do not apologize, Itheal. I think I understand now." _The Warchief will be interested to hear this. Perhaps it can change the attitude of our relationship with these elves to a more pleasant one…_

"Perhaps a new subject is in order." Evalina said, smiling weakly, wringing her hands anxiously. All seven of them were quick to nod.

_Oxoxoxoxoxo_

Nalannai fiddled with her sleeves as she made her way home that night, finding her way through the halls of her family's large house by dim candlelight.

Twiddling with a strand of pale blonde hair, she stepped quietly into her younger sister's, Nyste's, room, after hearing the young girl call out her name. The girl was sitting up in her small bed, her hair ruffled, and her eyes bleary from sleep.

"Where _were _you Nala! You were gone all day…" She mumbled. Crossing the room in a few quick strides, Nalannai sat on the side of the soft bed, stroking down the wild strands of pale hair from her Nyste's face.

"Training."

"With Mathus?" She asked. The girl absolutely adored the dark-haired goofball, and managed to squeal loud enough to burst Nalannai's eardrums everytime he came by. Smiling, she continued to stroke the girls hair.

"And Alei and Itheal." She said, while Nyste stared at her curiously.

"Nala? Are you in love with Mathus?" Nyste asked, making Nalannai wince. The girl was oddly perceptive for a six-year-old. Leaning back, she considered the question, biting her lip, before breaking into a grin.

"Yeah…I am." She finally murmured, before playfully placing a finger to her lips. "But shh! We can't have mom and dad find out. They might be…mad…" Nyste nodded eagerly, before yawning loudly, as Nalannai pulled the covers back over her.

"Now go to sleep…" She whispered. As she softly sang the younger girl to sleep, her thoughts carried her away. Her parents being mad wouldn't be the half of it…Most likely, they would ban her from being a Blood Knight all the much sooner, forbid Mathus from ever seeing her again, and hasten to marry her off to almost _anyone, _lest her 'purity be soiled' (in those exact words. Really, she may be in love, but she wasn't a brainless twit! She respected her body, thank you very much, and wasn't going to throw _that _away, unless she knew she was going to be with him forever. Or something like that.) As a soft snore escaped Nyste, Nalannai slowly slid out of the room, heading for her own. As she passed her other sister's rooms, Vayria and Melina's, her sharp ears picked up the low murmuring of voices.

Her curiousity piquied, she passed her room, and pressed her ear to the door of her father's study.

"She actually seems to be _serious _about this…this…_Blood Knight _thing." Her mother's voice murmured anxiously.

"Don't worry my dear! I still believe it is just a phase. Even so, I'm sure we can persuade her out of it." Her father responded.

"Yes, yes, but what if she comes home with some terrible scar? Who will want to marry her then? We'd have more luck marrying off _Vayria." _Her mother referred to Nalannai's elder sister (and the one she was closest to), a Ranger, igniting anger in the Paladin. Vayria had resisted all efforts to be married, even running off outside Silvermoon a few times. Their mother had all but disowned her, prompting Vayria to ask for a transfer to the Ghostlands.

"Really, don't worry about it…" Her father repeated.

"And that horrid Eversong boy! What if she …actually _loves _him." There was a scoffing noise from her father, prompting Nalannai to bite her lip in fury at his next words.

"There is no place for love in the world of us nobles." He stated bluntly. Hearing a pained gasp from her mother, he quickly rectified his mistake and added; "It was simply by luck that we were..erm…placed together in marriage."

"Destiny?" Her mother breathed as Nalannai rolled her eyes at the pure clichéd drama of the moment.

"Ah…yes?'

"But that doesn't solve the issue of Nalannai! What if-"

"I've taken care of it." He said shortly. Her mother paused and Nalannai could sense the curious look that was being sent in her father's direction. He satisfied her mother's unspoken inquiry with his next sentence.

"I've already talked to Lord Dawnstar. He agreed to a marriage between himself and Nalannai."

"How wonderful!" Her mother cried in glee.

Nalannai, on the other hand, was barely able to muffle the horrified scream that was about to escape from her throat as she tore out of the house, tears streaming down her face.

* * *

**God, poor Nala :O **

A shorter chapter than usual, but it was more of a filler than anything else...Meh...

**again, THANK YOU! to all of my wonderful reviewers. I just want to eat you all up. Figuratively. Though if I do get hungry, I have a tendency for cannibalism :D **

**Juuuuuuusssttt Kiddding.**

**So, review? Hehe :)**

**-Feareth**


	7. Author's Note: Please Read

Sorry about the lack of activity guys

you see, I have most of the Blood Knights chapter 6 finished. (And I have chapters 7 and 8 started). and Half of the Lost War chapter ...4 (I think?) done.

But, the problem is that the laptop I write on...has decided to commit suicide. The power supply no longer works, and even before that, the computer wasn't taking a charge. So, all of my work was stored on that, thus meaning I've temporarily lost it all. I wasn't smart enough to e-mail it to myself... :(

I actually have been frantically going through my e-mail though, to see if I sent my friend any part of BK chapter 6, and if I do, I'll try to type it up :)

Moving on though, updates should be coming much faster, for without my laptop, I had time to -gasp- actually think about what I'm writing. I don't do that very often, hehe.

And I've also been bitten by the infamous plot-bunny. I now have three (and more minor still-in-the-works ideas) WoW stories in the works, and one Naruto one.

So, till I get a new power supply (there's fifty bucks down the drain ) or fix my own, ther may not be an update...

but, till then, I HAS A POLL! YESH!

Since I'm really psyched about the three WoW stories I mentioned above, and I wanna know what one you guys would want to see first

**1. Untitled**

Genre: Adventure-ish

Summary: Sylvie Locke has just been enrolled in Clarissa Shen's Lady's Finishing School of Stormwind. Needless to say, she hates it. But one day, when she has ditched her ballroom dancing class, she finds something rather strange; in a hidden cubby beneath her bed, there is a journal of a former student. Enraptured, she reads how this woman goes from a simple country girl to a cold-blooded murderer only after the wealth and power of others. THings take an even darker turn, however when she learns that murder wasn't all this girl was involved in. When the entries suddenly end, however, she is more suspicious. So she sets out, with the help of a rogue and a reluctant mage, to stop the twisted chain of events she had set off.

**2. ...Untitled as well**

**Genre: Adventure/Romance/Humor**

Summary: Meet Sylerae Moonblaze, hunter extroidinaire. Or, maybe, a green-behind-the-ears night elf huntress that was let out of Teldrassil too early. Meet Razzitani, a _real _hunter. And a troll. Musn't forget the troll part. When his moral compass finally decides to show itself and insist that he save her from being ripped apart in Hillsbrad, he discovers that this is most certainly a decision will haunt him for the rest of his life, when she finds him again in Booty Bay. Reluctantly, seeing how much she _hasn't _improved, he agrees to take her under his wing while he gathers info about the Gurubashi trolls in Stranglethorn. Unfortunately, Sylerae has a knack for getting into trouble.

("_My bear is not, not, NOT, fat! He's...he's just big boned. Right Charlie?"_

_"Sure, mon, sure."_

_"You know what? SHUT UP YOU STUPID TROLL! CHARLIE TOOK THAT AS AN INSULT!"__)_

**3. Cure**

Genre: Adventure/Romance

Summary: When a Sin'dorei accidentally pulls a night elf druid out of the line of fire, mistaking her for a Tauren in her bear form, he discovers his mistake almost immediately. Being the softee he is, however, he grudgingly allows her to stay with him until she has fully healed. Unfortunately for him, she had reached a decision at this point; she's is going to cure him of his arcane addiction. However, will they be able to put aside ten thousand year's worth of enimity between their peoples and find a cure? Or will the curtain's close on deadly end to the tragedy of forbidden love?

Cast your vote pleases and thank you :D

-Feareth

(PS: YES! YES! I JUST FOUND BLOOD KNIGHTS IN MY OUTBOX!)


	8. Chapter Six

A CHAPTER! HELL YEAH!

Sorry about the wait :) Summer projects are a bitch, especially when you do them the day before...

and without further adieu (because I forgot what I wanted to say XD) Here's chapter...oh damn, I forgot what chapter it is...

* * *

**_Blood Knights_**

_Chapter VI_

Blinded by tears, Nalannai ran as fast as she could, stumbling over stones in the dark. Before she knew it, she had slowed to a stop in Murder Row. She trembled, wiping a hand across her eyes, and crossed her arms across her chest. This certainly wasn't the most pleasant place in all of Silvermoon. From a doorway nearby, a rogue was slumped against the wall, eying her warily. She shivered slightly, as her eyes were drawn to another building, were the windows were flashing with spell lights, alternating between evil looking purples, greens, and reds.

Biting her lip, she glanced around for a particular house- Aleinia lived down here, somewhere, but she had no idea where. Everything almost looked the same; dark building, flickering torches, as well as a shady inn on the end of the Row.

While she was contemplating this problem, she didn't notice a shadow creeping up on her, until a sharp object was at her throat, and a mouth by her ear. Her breath caught in her throat, as she forced herself to stop shaking. Turning her head a few degrees, she strained to catch a glimpse of her captor. All she could glimpse was rough, scarred tan skin, and dark hair.

"What's a pretty little noble doing here late at night?" the deep voice said in her ear, and she was unable to repress her shiver of fear. "You could get hurt." To emphasize his statement, he tightened his hand, the one that wasn't holding the knife to her throat, on her shoulder. She opened her mouth to spit out a scathing response, when someone beat her to punch.

"Let her go, Tyo, you big dunderhead." Said the new voice casually, and Nalannai's eyes lit up upon seeing Aleinia walking towards her, rolling her eyes.

"Way to ruin my big scary rogue image, Alei." Her captor, now named 'Tyo', sighed, releasing Nalannai. She stumbled away from him, rubbing her neck while staring at him reproachfully. Now that she could fully see him, she noted that he was tall and slender, like most rogues- or, like most Blood Elves for that matter. His skin, though, was darker than you'd normally find on a Sin'dorei; it was a rich, dark golden color, and although his left eye and right temple were marred by intimidating scars, he was quite handsome, as well as experienced looking. Despite this, though, he barely looked three years older than herself and Aleinia, perhaps about twenty years old.

"Is this a normal greeting down here?" Nalannai asked dryly, retreating to stand next to Aleinia. Tyo grinned in response, sticking his dagger back in its sheath on his belt, while Aleinia let out a short laugh.

"Actually, yes." She said with a small smile. "He always used to jump me when I was a kid, until I bit him so hard he ran for his mommy." She snickered as Tyo frowned, turning away.

"I was ten, Alei!" He exclaimed, but Nalannai could see the laugh dancing in his eyes. Aleinia rolled her eyes again.

"Yes, and a seven year-old girl made you cry…" Tyo made a 'psh' sound, and waved her off. Nalannai raised her eyebrows slightly.

"You two know each other?" She asked, and Aleinia nodded with a hint of a smile.

"Old family friend," She explained, and noting Nalannai's distrust of him, she continued "I know he looks intimidating, but don't believe that. He's completely harmless." Nalannai nodded, glancing at Tyo, noticing that he was at least a head taller than both herself and Aleinia, possibly two.

"Well," Tyo started with a yawn, "I'm off. You know how it goes- people to scare, valuables to steal, lonely ladies to comfort…" he clicked his tongue against his teeth and winked, until his gaze strayed to the rogue that had been watching Nalannai earlier. Now he had stood from his previous position in the doorway, and was swaggering drunkenly around the street, bottle in hand. "And drunken friends to care for. The idiot…." He shook his head, mumbling to himself.

"Filen's still at that?" Aleinia questioned, bemused, before shrugging. "Ah, well…tell him that I said to clean up his act or I'll sic Jannisal on him." As he walked away, Tyo let out a barking laugh.

"Don't you know? She's why he drinks! She set her sights on the poor guy!" Aleinia giggled into her hand, and motioned to Nalannai to follow her down the street.

"So…you really live here?" Nalannai inquired, and immediately bit her tongue. She had said the wrong thing, judging by how Aleinia's shoulders tensed as she stopped walking. There was a strained silence that seemed to stretch on for hours. Nalannai swallowed, and opened to mouth to speak. Before the blonde could make amends, Aleinia started to talk, her voice quiet.

"You know, I love it here. I may wear cotton instead silk and velvet, there may not always be enough food on the table, and we might be a too-large family in a too-small house. Our things may be second-hand, and the rich people may look down on us, but we really don't need them. I would give up living here for anything." She turned to face her, and Nalannai was relieved to see that she was smiling. "We're like a big family down here. The rogues aren't really a bad sort, when you get to know them, and though I don't love the warlocks, there are a few good ones out there."

"Why are you down here, Nala? You've never come here before…" She trailed off as they stepped under a light, and clearly saw Nalannai's face. She frowned in concern, spotting the dried tear-tracks on her cheeks. "What's wrong Nala?"

Her previous problems washed back over her like a wave, as she could feel herself getting pale. She had forgotten in the conversation between Tyo and Aleinia about her…problem.

With a sigh, she leaned against the nearest wall, and stared up at her copper-haired friend with a hint of dread in her expression. Her eyes closed for a moment, long lashes sticking together as tears leaked out of her eyes.

"I…have an arranged marriage…"

Aleinia didn't bother to conceal her shock as she stared at the Fireveil girl.

"You- what?" Her voice was angry and Nalannai almost feared (illogically) that the fury was directed at her, until she felt herself being pulled into a hug. She didn't even try to attempt the fruitless task of stopping the flow of tears, and instead rested her head on Aleinia's shoulder and sobbed her eyes out. The other girl stroked her hair gently.

"Alei…It's to Dawnstar…it's to Brolius Dawnstar." Aleinia let out a hiss of distaste. Brolius had quite the reputation, and it certainly wasn't a pleasant one. A new thought occurred to Nalannai just then, and she gasped, and Aleinia gave her an odd look.

"How…what's going to happen to Mathus?" She once again buried her head against the other girl's shoulder, soaking the cloth and most likely the skin. Aleinia closed her eyes to hide the few tears that were beginning to gather in them.

"I-I... Don't worry Nala. We'll figure something out. You, me , Mathus and Itheal. We'll do something…" She pulled back to give her friend a weak smile.

" I think it would be best if you stayed at my home. I doubt barging back into your own would make things any easier for us to get you out of this fate. Plus, who would ever look for you on Murder Row?" Nalannai offered a watery smile in return as they headed down the street, stopping a few doors away from the shady inn Nalannai had noticed before.

--

The next morning found Itheal lounging on a bench, simply watching the clouds. It was at least a few hours before he and his team were supposed to meet for training, but Itheal always was an early riser, ever since he was a child. At a young age, the sunrise seemed magical to him; how could something create all those amazing colors, without the help of a mage? Yet somehow the earth did it. His mother would oftentimes join him, passing him a warm cup of minty hot cocoa and they would simply watch in silence, no need for words. Needless to say, he loved to listen to the birdcalls as well as watching the city gradually come to life before his eyes.

A cart wheel creaked nearby and he lazily turned his head to watch a wagon filled with food and spices being pulled by two elven horses towards the Sunspire. It vaguely registered to him that it was probably for the feast tonight, which would be attended by some of the highest ranking Blood Elves on Azeroth (including Lady Liadrin, Loth'Remar, Lord Bloodwrath, and many others) , concerning the future of their race and the Outlands.

Shrugging, he stood up, stretching. Perhaps he'd find one of the stalls that opened up this early, and grab breakfast. And then….and early morning ride around Eversong certainly sounded nice. Phantom, his stallion, could certainly use the exercise. He hadn't been out since the day in the Dead Scar. His eyes darkened at the memory and he started off, his ears drooping slightly.

He stopped though, when a glass fell off the slow moving cart that had just passed him, clattering on the stone, before coming to a stop at his feet. Blinking slightly he knelt and picked it up, holding it up to the dim early morning light.

_Praise the Sunwell the glass is thick. _He thought to himself, tapping it lightly. Some of these spices, for that was what he was assuming it was, were imported from places as far as Shattrath City , and could easily cost more than two well trained, pure blooded elven battle steeds, even for a vial this small.

Examining it, he saw it was a cloudy brown color, with a tint of sickly looking green running through it. Flecks of deep red and maroon floated in it giving off an evil feeling, rather than looking delectable like most did. He wrinkled his nose slightly; glad he wouldn't be the one tasting it. Still though, he was curious, and began twisting the cap off of it, before freezing suddenly. It was there only for a brief moment, and was gone in a flash, but something had shifted. Judging by the feel of it, something in this vial had been magically altered. That in itself wasn't surprising; most of the Sin'Dorei foods were, simply because it made the food miles better than average. What was suspicious, though, was the _dark _feel to the spice, the murderous intent he sensed in the magic.

More cautious now, he set the cap on the bench he had just vacated and held the bottle an arms length away from him, before sniffing hesitantly.

Nothing out of the ordinary, he found with a frown; simply rosemary and thyme, maybe with a little silverleaf and peppermint. With a small sigh, he extended a finger, now alight with a golden glow, and probed it with his Naaru-stolen powers.

The liquid reacted violently. It immediately began to bubble over, making Itheal drop it and jump back with a curse, before any of the noxious concoction should land on his skin or clothes. Before it could even hit the ground, the bubbling fluid had changed from liquid to a puff of deleterious smelling smoke. He watched it fade away with a furrowed brow, before glancing at the cart and cursing again. She was almost at the entrance. Jogging to catch up, he observed the contents; thankfully it was neatly organized, and he spotted a box full of the little vials. There were four holes, three of which were occupied by similar looking fluids. The third was empty, and he readily assumed it was meant for the vial he had just found.

Putting on his most charming smile, he walked up to the front of the cart, and raised his hands, asking the driver to stop. She did so, leaping out of her seat to see him.

"Is there something you'd like, sir?" she asked, a small blush rising on her pale cheeks. Itheal shrugged, feeling faintly disgusted with himself for tricking her like this if the vial truly was a spice. If it was truly on the shipping list , she might get in loads of trouble for this later.

"Oh nothing in particular…" He began. "I just wanted to talk to you about something." He blinked slightly, not quite knowing why she had suddenly turned beet red and looked flustered. He leaned against the cart, discreetly slipping his hand inside and feeling for the containers.

"Y-yes? What about?" She was biting her lip so hard he thought it might start bleeding. He gave her a reassuring smile as he found one vial and flicked it up into a hidden pouch attached to his belt with a nimbleness and skill that would make a rogue proud. He winced though, as he dropped the last one, and it thumped against the wooden boards. The driver appeared not to have heard it though, and he made haste to put the last one in, before straightening up again.

"I was curious as to where all this foods going. Would you know?" He queried, and her face fell.

"Oh…the food. I, uh, think it's going to this big feast tonight, with all of the leaders." She said dully, keeping her eyes lowered. He smiled again, nodding.

"Ah, that would make sense." Noticing her sudden glumness, he added a compliment to the end. "They surely must trust you if they allow you to carry all of this, which is going to be on the table of some of the greatest elves in history." She brightened marginally at this, giving him a hesitant smile. She was about to respond, when she saw his eyes drawn to the far side of the square. She followed his gaze to see a flash of copper, that was identified a young woman when she stopped moving.

She had knocked on the door, which soon opened to reveal dark-haired male, tousled from sleep. She spoke to him frantically, and his eyes progressively widened. She was still trying to speak, and settled for yelling after him as he pulled on a shirt and ran towards Murder Row as if the Burning Legion itself was on his tail.

When she looked back at him, and saw the concern evident in his eyes, she certainly felt like she wanted to cry. Biting her lip again, she bade the man goodbye quickly, and rushed off before he had time to respond.

Itheal stood where she left hi, switching his gaze between Aleinia, who had followed Mathus down to Murder Row, and the empty glass container in his hand, before sighing. The safety of those attending the dinner tonight certainly trumped what was going on with his team at the moment, though part of him screamed otherwise. Running a hand through his hair, he set off for Farstrider Square , to inform Lady Liadrin of this apparently new plot.

_/././././._

Watching the brown haired elf walk out of his sight, a shadow hissed in distaste and melted back in the shadows. He and his partner had worked this plan to perfection; they had planted an agent as the head chef in the kitchens. They had gotten a particularly gullible priest expelled from the Priest's academy, so she would have to take up odd jobs to survive. The original driver of the cart was killed. They had set the food's shipper in her path. They had slipped the vials in the cart when she wasn't looking, when she accepted the job as a driver.

The foul liquid would have then reached the kitchens, and from there, the plates of some of the most powerful Blood Elves in history, as well as a few Forsaken Undead. His master's alchemist's had spent years on end devising the perfect formula, and even more time brewing it. Those bottles were the first few ever made, and now- _now _they were in the hands of a too-nosy-for-his own-good elf, and a filthy paladin by the looks of it.

Idly, he lowered a claw-like hand to his dagger, a feral grin spreading across his pasty face, before he quelled the desire to kill, to rip, and to shred. The master said that there would be no more killing than necessary; suspicions would be aroused, further destructing the carefully made plans.

His face fell once again.

He was going to catch hell for this failure once they headed out of this blasted city that should have been destroyed years ago.

This would set the plans back yet another few years, while another batch of it brewed and aged in the darkest depths of the base, in a place that even the rats wouldn't go.

With another hiss of breath, he grabbed a rounded container from his belt loop, pulled off the cork and dipped a finger in. When he removed it, it was coated in a thick, deep red substance, dripping slowly onto the ground. With practiced precision, he slowly began to paint the runes that would transport him out of this city. To hell with his partner.

--

Linnae sighed in exasperation as she left the kitchen. The cooks were _fiends _disguised as Elves; they had insisted on checking every last piece of food in the cart, while she was there. They had interrogated on her on whether she was stopped at all, by anyone suspicious. She had said no, besides a man right outside.

They had proceeded to grill her for information on his personality, his appearance to the most minute detail. After describing him at length, one of the cook's recognized him as being a master paladin named 'Itheal Bloodstriker'.

Once finished, she had snuck out to the halls below the Sunspire (where the kitchens, and servant's rooms were located) before they could catch her.

She couldn't really blame them, though. If this feast really was as important as they all said, their heads were at stake if the food was poisoned.

But still….this is what she had been reduced to. A cart driver from Fairbreeze Village . Once, a few months ago, she had been training with some of the finest priests and priestesses in Azeroth. But now, due to misplaced blame, because someone had torn up a sacred old tome, she was out on the streets, begging for any job she could have, and healing beggars for little more than three coppers a pop.

Then again, she mused, _I'm not much better off than the beggars…_

And you think that any friends or lovers would have stood by her during all of this; but of course not! All of her supposed friemds completely abandoned her after the incident with the tome (which was _so _totally not her fault. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time!) not wanting to be associated with a trouble maker and a almost-beggar.

And as for lovers? Ha! She was lucky if any boy gave her a second glance. Apparently she wasn't worth two silvers; the only people that approached simply wanted her to turn tricks for them, which she responded to with a rather forceful punch. _Remember Priestess Linnea, us followers of the Light never resort to physical violence. It is a barbaric way that we leave up to the Farstrider Rangers, Blood Knights, and Rogues. _

She snorted at the memory. Obviously, that old instructor never lived in the real world; a world where the weak were tossed to the wolves and the women scorned, and the men crude. Her eyes softened marginally; _I didn't live in the real world either though…_

She had fallen a fair way from her previous position, she noticed sadly, glancing at her self in the mirror. Whereas once she would had worn the finest silk and jewels (all of which had been confiscated when she was kicked from her priestly training), she was now reduced to a simple cloth shirt, and ripped breeches. Her shoes were threadbare, and mud stained. Dirt smudged most of her skin, and dusted her once long, lustrous ash-blonde hair, hair that was now lost to the wind. One of her first lessons on the street was that long hair was troublesome and gave potential robbers and thugs a good hand-hold. Now it was cut short, to her collarbone, and pulled up in a high pony-tail with a scrap of leather.

She leaned in towards the mirror, intent on rubbing off the dirt on her left cheekbone, before freezing.

Her reflection wasn't the only thing staring back at her.

Red eyes stared at her, and she could _feel _the presence of another being beside her. The person's face was shrouded by a hood and mask, from what she could see, but he _smelled _horrible. Like…rotting flesh sitting out in the sun too long.

Her breath sped up and her heart was beating so loudly she bet he could feel it, but he simply seemed to grin under the mask as he trailed a dagger up her neck.

The touch was light, almost feather-like, but when he placed the tip on her chin, she felt the warm liquid trickling down her neck. She resisted the urge to shiver; the dagger must be insanely sharp.

"Hello there," He sneered, and with that, clamped a hand over her mouth, and dragged her into a side door, muffling her screams.

--

"So you say you found this in a cart of food meant for the meeting tonight? And that it reacted violently to the Naaru and light based abilities?" Lady Liadrin questioned, holding up the bottle of what Itheal assumed to be poison to the light of the massive chandelier.

"aye," he confirmed, setting the pouch of the other bottles on the table before him. She frowned slightly, setting the one she was examining as well.

"If that's the case she sighed, we might as well send these off…" She sighed before grabbing two bbags, most likely much more secure ones, and placing all of the bottles within them.She scribbled two notes, beforesealing them with her own personalized seal, in red wax. Itheal followed her as she stepped outside her personal room and into the training chamber of the Blood Knight Headquarters.

"Lightstrike!" She barked, and all at once, five heads shot up to look at her. Lady Liadrin rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like '_So bloody many of them'. _

"Charian, and Nathalis. Back to work the rest of you louts- and you, Goldsong, get off your ass and do something, you lazy freeloader. Go find Bloodsword and spar or something."

There was a chorus of 'Yes Ma'am's', at varying pitches as well as a loud groan from Kanosius Goldsong that went something along the lines of; _But Lady Liaaaadrriiiinnnn…..Sal kicks my_ _ass every time! Right here, I can…erm, study everyone else's fighting style!_

A small smile crossed the Blood Knight matriarch's face as she snapped good naturedly at Kanosius. "I'm sure you'll be able to study wonderfully with your eyes closed, eh?"

The Lady Liadrin actually was more of a mother or a sister to the Paladins under her command, rather than a leader. They all carried a deep, abiding respect for her (who wouldn't?), yet she was, in a word, relatable.

The two men she had summoned, along with the other three that had responded, were most definitely related to Aleinia, he was able to see at first glance. Though both Charian and Nathalis were dark haired rather than orange like his student, they shared Aleinia's same facial features; the refined nose, and then the slightly smaller build than most Sin'Dorei. Charian, the younger one, also shared the same thickly lashed eyes that gave him and Aleinia that sort of dazed owl-like look.

Giving each of them one of the plain bags holding the vials Itheal had found, she dug out a pair of insignias from an invisible pocket handing both of the men one.

"This will allow you access to the Royal mage's and alchemist's rooms and to where the Spymaster's best rogues reside," She explained, seeing their questioning looks. "I need you, Nathalis to deliver to deliver that to the Spymaster- or, well, his assistant, he doesn't really let many people see him- and for Charian to bring that to the mage's." Almost as an afterthought, she added "Keep a wary eye out;" She warned, "and _don't _let those fall into the wrong hands."

--

Breakfast at the Lightstrike's home certainly was an interesting affair.

Nalannai could only assume that Aleinia had already explained to her parents and family why she was here, for no questions were asked when she woke up and stumbled out of Aleinia's room with puffy, red-rimmed eyes and dried tears on her face. One of her many brothers simply pulled an extra chair out for her, and her mother plopped a steaming cup of weak tea in front of her with a sympathetic smile.

From there things were a little…odd.

Aleinia's mother bustled around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for her eight children, husband, and Nalannai.

_("Pryonus, honey, could you light the fire?"_

_Said brother, not looking up from his beat up old book, lifted a finger and shot a fireball in the general direction of where his mother was cooking. _

_"Thank you dear!" she called back, quickly attempting to muffle the wayward flames. Judging by the singes around the room, this wasn't unusual.)_

Aleinia's other five brothers, all Blood Knights, as well as her father, were tussling outside with some of the other local children. Two of them (Fariner and Jeferus, if she caught their names correctly) were teaching a ragtag group of children the basics of swordplay, using sticks in the place of blades. When Aleinia exited a nearby house, the entire herd of young elves surged forward to tackle her with hugs and shouts of '_Alei!' _

Nalannai had let a faint smile cross her lips as she watched the scene unfold, like it was a play and she was the audience. She certainly felt out of place enough, though at the same time, she understood what Aleinia said when she told her she loved it here.

She set down the scratched teacup with a soft sigh, her eyes misting over slightly. Aleinia had the childhood she'd always wanted. She could accurately guess that when she was stuffed up in a room taking manners lessons, Aleinia was out scuffling with her brothers. When she was having dress fittings, Aleinia was likely getting chased down and scolded by a shopkeeper for pulling pranks with her brothers. Aleinia's family loved and cherished her dearly; Nalannai's parents thought of her as a simple tool of leverage in the Sin'Dorei society.

She hurriedly wiped a hand across her eyes so that no one would see the gathering of tears- pathetic, that she should be jealous of her best friend. When she raised her head, she saw Aleinia's mother, Kalysina, looking at her concernedly.

"Are you alright, dear?" Her trembling lower lip clearly stated otherwise, but she nodded, forcing a warm smile.

"I-…I am." She reassured her weakly. Kalysina frowned, believing otherwise, before sighing and heading towards the door, calling that Breakfast was ready. When the boys came in, their hands and faces dirty, she pulled a face and ordered them back outside to wash up. When Pathyon, another brother of Aleinia's, dared to complain, Kalysina brandished her wooden spoon at him with a ferocious glower. He immediately backed off, raising his hands in a non-threatening gesture as he ducked his tall frame back out the door.

At any other time, Nalannai would have laughed upon seeing a full-fledged Blood Knight being cowed by a matronly woman with a spoon, but now wasn't quite the time or place in her mind. The breakfast itself went quickly after that- Jannisal never showed up. Apparently, according to Pathyon, she slept quite…late, though he didn't put it so nicely.

After they had all finished downing Kalysina's wonderful cooking, the Lighstrike family began to disperse. Pyronus went up to the room he shared with Charian and Nathalis to prepare for a day of studying as a mage, Charian, Nathalis, Pathyon, and Fariner set off for the Blood Knight Headqaurters, and Jeferus went off to supposedly 'discuss important matters' with a priestess named Rylennia. Aleinia had slipped off somewhere, though she didn't quite know where.

Then again, she could guess, for the next thing she knew, Mathus was barreling through the door, and catching her in an embrace so strong that she though he might choke her.

"Mathus?" she squeaked, well aware of the newly awakened Jannisal, Aleinia, Kalysina, and Aleinia's father watching them. He didn't respond, only pulling back so he could desperately search her face.

She took the time to notice that his shirt was partially undone, and that he looked as though he had barely run a comb through his long hair before hastily tying it behind him. All in all, like he had just woken up.

"Nala," He started in an oddly strangled sounding voice. "You're okay? They didn't…no one hurt….touched…" He didn't quite seem capable of stringing a proper sentence together.

"I'm…I'm fine." She whispered, and he sighed in relief, pulling her to him again, albeit more gently this time.

"Good." he murmured against her hair, just holding her, not noticing as Aleinia slipped out again.

--

Itheal had just descended the steps of the Blood Knight Headquarters when something caught his arm- or, someone for that matter. He spun around, and caught his assaulter's tiny wrists in one hand that engulfed the limbs. He relaxed though, seeing Aleinia staring at him, bemused.

"Yes?" He asked, grinning and tightening his grip as she tried get her hands free.

"That's no fair…"she complained, kicking his boot lightly. "You're too strong…" She pouted at him, and he chuckled lightly, releasing her wrists.

"Sorry," He offered. "Reflexes." She smiled slightly, rubbing the spot where he had held.

"Right," She responded with a smirk. He flicked her forehead lightly, following her out of the Square.

"So where are you leading me, this fine day?" he questioned, and she stopped abruptly, biting her thumbnail, her eyebrows furrowed. Itheal raised his eyebrows and pulled the finger away from her.

"Is something wrong?" He inquired, causing her to sigh.

"Yeah." She said shortly. "Nalannai's being married to Brolius Dawnstar." It took a moment for this to sink in, and he stared at her quizically for a moment. Then his eyes widened in shock.

"married?" He repeated in shock, and she nodded, looking away from him. Anger blossomed in his chest at the thought of Nalannai being handed to Brolius Dawnstar, and he scowled, his face darkening with every second that went by.

He had had the misfortune of meeting the Lord Dawnstar a few times. He was a cocky bastard (like some called Itheal himself), but not in an easy-going, friendly way. No, when Itheal was required to have an audience, the older man looked down his nose at him as though he were filth. He had also summoned his 'wife' (more like a pleasure slave, he spat in his mind, scowling.) to serve them drinks, and Itheal was shocked to see his former comrade, a rogue by the name of Zalithe.

She was barely able to meet his eyes when he tried to talk to her, and kept fearfully glancing at Brolius. Althoguh she tried her best to powder over them, he could still see faint bruises in the shape of hands around her neck.

Nalannai was like his little sister. Sweet, shy, and beautiful. Light knew he acted like an overprotective brother to her and Aleinia (or, maybe not a brother in Aleinia's case...) and the thought of anyone harming her like that made his hands curl into fists. Brolius, he decided, certainly had a deathwish.

Small hands wrapped around his wrists, pulling him out of his thoughts and tugging him toward Murder Row.

"Her parent's arranged it for her. Either they don't hear what he does, or they don't beleive it." At this, Aleinia hesitated, leaving unspoken words hanging in the air. Or they don't care. It was unspeakably cruel and unimaginable, but Itheal had to admit to himself; it happened, and more often than he liked to think.

Aleinia sighed, shaking her head. "I let her stay with me. I had the feeling she would be a mess if she went back to her parent's home. Mathus is already there though. We're trying to figure out what to do..."

"Ah." was his only response as he followed her.

The scene they came upon when they returned, was almost heartbreaking. Nalannai was sobbing unrestrainedly into Mathus's chest, and he was holding her as tight as he could. Unsurprisingly, he also looked like he was going to murder someone. They both looked up as Itheal and Aleinia entered.

"You alright, Nala?" Itheal asked, his brow furrowed in concern. Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded weakly.

"What are we going to do?" Mathus interrupted abruptly, his eyes narrow. "Because she's sure as hell not going to marry Dawnstar."

Itheal sighed, pulling out a chair across from Mathus, resting his chin on his hands, Aleinia following him quietly.

"Have they actually spoken to Brolius himself?" Itheal questioned Nalannai. She raised her head, wiping her eyes.

"They have." She whispered, desperately trying to keep her voice steady. "My parents said he...that he agreed."

A frown once again crossed Itheal's face. "Have you talked to them?" He asked, turning to Mathus. He shook his head wordlessly, stroking Nalannai's hair. He almost looked as though he was about to say something, when the door behind them snapped open, casting a long shadow in the doorway.

Aleinia, Itheal, and Mathus all leapt to their feet, eyeing this stranger suspiciously; whoever they were, they were clothed in a long dark cloak, their face covered in a hood. Against the dark material of long cloak, they could make out the shape of two blades, and a quiver was strapped to their back.

Nalannai simply, sniffled, and let out a small giggle. "You always liked big enterances, didn't you Vay?" She asked, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. A laugh sounded from the stranger, as she pulled off the hood, revealing silvery hair and a grin, as she crossed the room to hug Nalannai.

"You know me well, Nal." She said,before turning serious again.

"My apologies for interrupting," She said, turning to the other three and bowing, "I am Vayria Fireveil. Someone told me that they were shipping my sister off to Dawnstar, so I had to stop and see if it was true. Tyo told me you all were holed up down here."

Itheal threw a questioning look at Aleinia as he shook Vayria's hand.

"Tyo?" He asked. She shrugged and waved him off.

"He's an old friend." She allowed with a small smile, pulling out a chair for Vayria. The ranger (as she assumed her to be), dropped into it immediately and gratefully, unclasping her cloak to drape it over the back. Her clothes were dusty from traveling, and Aleinia could accurately guess that she wasn't just 'passing through' and 'happened to hear' about Nalannai's predicament. To be honest, from the stories of Vayria's own radical avoidance of marriage, she had a feeling the other woman had been keeping tabs on her parent's relationships with other nobles. And she knew Tyo and Filen as well, which made sense. The rogues did have the habit of sticking their noses where they didn't belong. One couldn't begrudge them for it though; they were rogues, and snooping was in the job description.

"Down to business then," Aleinia stated, settling back next to Itheal. "Could you ask them for Nala's Hand, Mathus?" He pulled a face, and Vayria snorted loudly.

"No offense, kid, but they hate you. They wouldn't accept." She leaned over to ruffle his hair. "But no worries. I like you. And...I'm betting Nala does too." Nala smiled slightly and rolled her eyes at her sister, who wiggled her eyebrows.

"Could she refuse?" It was Itheal this time. Vayria grimaced slightly.

"No. Last time, when they were trying to marry me, I tried to refuse. They were so frustated that they bribed a magister to come and put me under his mind control until the wedding. They weren't happy when I decked him in the face and broke his jaw." She shook her head. "It hurt like hell when he started though. I don't wanna put Nala through that.

A silence fell again, as thoughts ran through each of their minds. Aleinia tipped her head slightly to the side, looking thoughtful.

"I could trade places with Nala," She said her brows drawn together in deep thought. "I'm sure we could find an alchemist or a mage to hel-"

"No." Itheal bit out harshly, Nalannai echoing him a fraction of a second later. Heads turned towards him and he could only guess how angry he must have sounded. Quickly, he added to cover it up "I don't want to lose either of you. I've put you guys in enough danger these last few months."

Vayria nodded, accepting this and tapped her chin.

"That leaves one option, eh?" She murmured, raising her eyebrows at her younger sister. "I'll smuggle you out of Silvermoon, and maybe to Ratchet or something. Your only option is to escape."

* * *

I'm going to be honest here- Blood Knights so far has been a total learning experience for me. Re-reading, I can clearly where my faults are and where I could improve. So, I really hope my next story (probably the Sylerae one) will be much better. I've also gotten the Blood Elf society allllll wrong. I was wandering around Silvermoon, and I never really noticed the little scene where the magisters mind control the people speaking up against...someone, or that harassed citizen by the gate. I didn't even mention the arcane addiction! O.o

So, I may go back and rewrite this someday. When I...you know, have time to. ''In other news, I have two stories I'll hopefully post soon, and that I hope you guys will check out. One is the story about Sylerae and Razzitani. The other one was sparked when I was watching the Princess Diaries (yes, I shamelessly love thost movies...:D) and then surfed Wowwiki, and saw that Arthas actually has a living sister. Not leaking any juicy details yet because it's still just in my head, but it'll be about Calia Menethil.

So, that's a long enough author's note.

TOMORROW I HAVE SCHOOL EWWWW I DUN WANNA GO BACK SAVE ME PLEASE!!

-ahem-

Alright, I'm really finished :)

-Feareth

* * *


	9. Chapter Seven

Typed entirely in my e-mail. -eye twitch-

And now my hands hurt.

I do this because I love you guys :D

Anywayyssss, I know this chapter is reallly short, but I can't help that. This one and the next chapter are just tying up loose ends so I can move onto the second part. That said, the next chappie should be out soon. I'm HOPING tusday, but no guarentees.

So, total angst-cake. rawr. I LIEK MAH WIZARD ANGST. Wait, this isn't Potter Puppet Pals? Oh well.

So, while writing this, I was continuously listening to;

The Ataris: Not Capable of Love

and

CIWWAF: The Fourth Drink Instinct

Mainly Not Capable of Love. It doesn't _totally _fit, but it...kinda...does. Okay, not really. But it's still a kick ass song and I think you gyus should listen to it :3

* * *

_**Blood Knights**  
Chapter VII_

Mathus scowled pacing back forth before the gates of Silvermoon. Adjusting the dark cowl that obscured his face, he first glanced up to the guards, who were beginning to eye him suspiciously, and then down to Vayria, who was leaning up against the wall just inside the gate, seemingly sleeping. Like him, she was wearing an ebony traveling cloak, the hood pulled up over her head, though her silver hair spilled out from under it. Unlike her, however, Mathus was wearing a mask and, and had forgone anything that would identify him as Blood Knight.

A clocktowclock towerang out, announcing the beginning of the night's eleventh hour, and Mathus narrowed his eyes at Vayria.

As if she felt his hard stare, two green glowing green orbs appeared underneath the shadow of her hood as she opened her eyes. He held her gaze for a moment, before kneeling down next to her.

"Where the hell are they?" He hissed. "They were supposed to be half an hour ago!"

She frowned, standing up and stretching. "Really?" She muttered, half to herself. "Yeah...I'll go check." She started to walk, motioning for him to sit and wait. Grudgingly, he did so, slipping a hand to touch the newly grown facial hair under his hood.

Between last night, when Vayria had shown up at Aleinia's house, and now, they had come up with a plan to get Nalannai out of Silvermoon. Vayria was the orchestrator, and with the confidence and details she added, he has to vaguely wonder whether she had done this before. He wouldn't have been shocked if she did.

Nalannai's part had been to go home and beg her parents forgiveness for not coming home that night, playing the part of the perfect daughter. She would say that she had gotten sick after buying food from a vendor she hadn't seen before, and Aleinia insisted that she not leave, and instead stay and rest.

She would go to her room, and, once her parents were asleep (both Vayria and Nalannai confirmed that they were out like lights by ten o'clock.), she would signal to Aleinia and Itheal, who should have been hiding in the bushes underneath her window. They would toss up a rope, Nalannai would scarmble down, and cover up with a cloak.

Itheal, Aleinia, and Mathus had all bought some sort of disguise-potion from a vendor recommended to them by Tyo, and now looked radically different; Itheal was (much to his displeasure) a moody looking pubescent mage-look-a-like, Aleinia was a middle aged, plain woman, and Mathus had gotten a bit of a wild look, with an unkempt beard, and scarred face.

From there, they would meet up with Vayria and Mathus at the gates, where three horses were waiting. Vayria, Mathus and Nalannai would take off, bypassing Fairbreeze Village, and crossing into Ghostlands. At the same time, Aleinia and Itheal would distract the gaurds, allowing their getaway. From Ghostlands, they would head into Eastern Plaguelands, and from there, somehow onto Kalimdor.

Meanwhile, Aleinia and Itheal would return to their respective homes, and discard their disguises. When morning came, and the two Fireveils and the Eversong were reported missing, they would pretend to know nothing about it it.

It should have gone off without a hitch.

But the other three Blood Knights had yet to appear, Mathus pondered, scowling.

He glanced up, suddenly alert when he heard footsteps, but was taken aback by Vayria's panicked expression. No longer did she pay any heed to the guards who had stiffened. Instead, she roughly hefted him to his feet with surprising strength and dragged him out the gate, breathing heavily.

"What?!" Mathus protested, "What about Na-"

"Shh!" She silenced him as they dove off the bridge, startling a sleeping blonde elf that Mathus vaguely remembered as Jero'me. There were shouts from the guards as two more shadows sped from the gate, following the same path as Mathus and Vayria were.

"where to go, where to go," She muttered to herself, trembling with nervousness. Her eyes roved as they crouched, before she stopped by the pond near Master Anthenol's area where he instructed his students. Pulling him again, she ran across the wooded area, and dove. Mathus was barely able to catch a breath before he hit the water. Still following her, they slid onto a ledge behind large rocks that were, in turn, hidden by the waterfall thundering over their heads.

He faintly saw two blurred shadows slip silently into the water after them, before dissapearing beneath the waterfall. Mere moments later, they were revealed as Itheal, who pulled Aleinia up beside him.

"What happendd to Nala?" Mathus demanded, shifting into a more comfortable position, though they were all squished on the ledge. He eyed the other two for a moment, noting their lack of disguise. "And what happened to being incognito?"

Instinctively pulling a shivering Aleinia against him, Itheal scowled, running his free hand through his soaked hair that was sticking to his forehead.

"The disguises were destroyed by ward spells on the house." He spat. "They wore off as soon as we got to the Fireveil house." Mathus nodded, not really hearing anything.

"But what about Nala?" He repeated again. They barely fit on the ledge, but it was somehow empty without the blond girl. The silence became awkward, as Vayria refused to meet his gaze.

"There was a mage-alarm on the window." Aleinia said quietly. Water was running down her face, and Mathus wasn't quite sure whether it was from the pond, or if it had tears mixed in. Itheal sighed and, proving to Mathus that they were most certainly tears, wiped underneath Aleinia's eyes with a calloused thumb.

"Before she even had a leg out of the window, guards were flooding the place." He continued, clenching his jaw. "At the same time, the potion wore off, and guards pulled Nala back inside and blocked the window. It was all I could do to get Aleinia and myself out of there without being recognized." For the first time, Mathus noted the scratches covering both of them, presumably from scrambling through courtyards and bushes rather than the roads that twisted through Silvermoon.

He automatically opened his mouth to ask whether they would return for her, but before he could say anything, Itheal slowly shook his head. Mathus scowled but said nothing, and instead turned his head, resting it on the cool stone behind him, closing his eyes. Slowly, very slowly, he drifted off, slipping between sleep and wakefulness. The sounds of Vayria, Aleinia and Itheal speaking slowly faded, until his chin dropped onto his chest, and fell totally asleep.

His dreams were chaotic; for a moment, he was holding Nalannai in his arms again, feeling like he was on top of the world. A second later, she was torn from him, crying his name, tears streaming down her pale face. He ran after her, but with every step he took, she was farther away, and he felt like his was trying to swim through molasses.

When he turned around, his shoulders and ears drooping, he was startled to see Sanaden in front of him, glaring, his eyes burning.

"Pathetic," He hissed, "I died to save you guys, to save Aleinia, and you can't do anything to help Nala? I thought you were better." With a derisive snort, he turned away and walked off. In his spot appeared Brolius Dawnstar, holding a limp Nala. He gave him a cold smirk, and Mathus's eyes widened when he realized that Nalannai wasn't breathing and was covered with blood.

Then someone was saying his name, and the world was moving...

Flinching, his eyes snapped open to meet Aleinia's gaze. He had to squint in the bright light that reflected off the waterfall and that illuminated her, giving hera halo-like aura. Even so, there were dark circles under her eyes, and her face was tear stained. The cuts had been healed, but she still looked terrible. He could assume she had gotten no sleep, going by her appearance.

"We're going to try and sneak in." She whispered, "They're changing the guards in a few minutes. You, me and Itheal are going to get in then. Vayria's heading back to Eastern Plaguelands."

He nodded wordlessly, peering through the water to see Itheal and Vayria on the shore, wringing out their cloaks before putting them back on. He took a deep breath and dove under again, before surfacing. He didn't speak at all, ignoring Itheal's concerned look and began to walk back towards the city.

Mere days later, Nalannai stood outside of the chapel, a bouquet of scarlet roses held in her shaking hands. Against her pure white gown they looked like a splash of crimson blood.

From her hidden seat, she watched with a despondant expression as the last of the guests shuffled into the chapel (whom, coincidentally, happened to be a drooped-looking Aleinia and Itheal. There had yet to be any sign of Mathus.)

The day was overcast, casting everything in shadow, giving the chapel an eerie look, even with the whimsical Sin'Dorei architecture. Her throat tight, she felt her eyes fill with tears, and was thankful for the veil that covered her face; she could see out, but no one could see in; no one could see her tears.

"M'lady," an attendant whispered quietly, nervously. "It is time for the ceremony." gnawing on her lower lip, Nalannai attempted to summon up every ounce of courage she could manage. It wasn't much, but nonetheless, she stood and began to walk towards the looming doors of the chapel, taking small steps, as to not rip the dress. Attendants hurried after her, lifting her long train off the wet ground.

Her foot landed on the first step, then the second, and before she knew it, she was infront of the double-doors. At the same moment that the doors creaked open, she craned her head upwards, seeing a pure white dove soaring above her, as free as could be.

With tears streaming down her face, and a bittersweet smile, she started down the aisle.

Mathus panted heavily as he ran towards the chapel that he knew Nalannai was going to be married in, his boots tapping on the stone, echoing around the deserted streets.

All morning, he had wandered around Silvermoon, debating on whether or not he should go or not, clenching the invitation written on golden colored paper, in his hands. Until now, he had thought not, not thinking he could stand her being shipped off to Brolius Dawnstar. He wasn't sure he could last through the ceremony.

But in some last ditch, pathetic attempt, he thought that, maybe he could still stop the wedding. He held onto that hope, even though every part of him screamed that it was impossible, that he'd get himself killed.

Rain had started to fall, slowly, when the chapel came into sight, the giant doors swung open wide. He took the steps two at a time-

-and froze in the doorway, watching as Brolius Dawnstar lifted the veil of a woman clad in white, revealing a tear stained face. She refused to look at her groom, until he pulled her towards him and roughly pressed his lips to hers, sealing her fate.

All that escaped Mathus's lips was a small, horrified no, but in the silent chapel, it was a enough to make the entire room turn and look at him as he dropped to his knees.

Worst of all was when Nalannai turned, and saw him. Her face twisted in sadness as she began crying in earnest, and tried to go towards him, until Dawnstar grabbed her wrist, effectively halting her advance.

And the rain began to fall.

Hours later, when night was starting to fall, Itheal found Aleinia standing out in the rain, simply standing and staring up at the chapel where her best friends had both just seemingly emotionally shattered.

He watched her sadly for a few moments, trying to judge what was going on in her mind. Mathus had dissapeared to Light-knew-where, and he certainly looked like he wanted to be left alone. Nalannai had been hustled out of the chapel, and immediately into a carriage with Brolius. He could only dread what was likely going to happen to her tonight, and seethe over the fact that he couldn't do anything.

When she didn't move, he slowly approached her, wrapping his arms around her, resting his chin on her head, and closing his eyes against the rain that was soaking the both of him. For a moment, she stiffened, before relaxing into his embrace, sniffling a little.

Later, he couldn't quite say why he did it. It certainly wasn't the right time, nor the place. But it felt so right when he brushed her sopping wet hair out of her face, when he stroked her cheek lightly, when he dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers. When she squeaked in surprise, when she moved her lips against his, tilting her head ever so slightly.

When he released her, she was flushed pleasantly, staring up at him with half-lidded eyes. His hands slipped from where they were positioned on her shoulders to waist as he hugged her tightly.

"We're gonna be okay, Alei." He whispered in her ear. She didn't quite believe it, but closed her eyes and leaned into his embrace anyway.

* * *

I liek mah angst.. HA!

anyways, I'm actually relatively happy with the way this came out. Again, it's short, but THERE'S LOGIC BEHIND IT! Just tying up loose ends in these two chappies, then it'll get back on track :)

So, I've got a question for you guys; what's the most rediculous reason you've gotten kicked from a group?

I've got two examples;

One, I was playing my balance druid (LOW LVL BALANCE FTW XD) and I just asked the mage in party-chat 'Hey could I get some water? I oom really fast.' and I got kicked XD I cracked up

Another time, I was playing my friend's priest in SP, and we had total fail. the lock was flipping out, and he goes 'PEOPEL NEED TO KNO HOW TO KEEP AGGRO' and my friend was here, and we just typed 'ur mom doesn't know how to keep aggro'

kicked :)

it was kinda-sorta-hilarious. (keep in mind I play on a PVP server O.o)

So mr review wants you to push his buttons. Kinky.

-Feareth

* * *


	10. Chapter Eight

Uh, hello, guys :)

I'm not sure if there's any way I can apologize for abandoning this story for over a year (A year, three months, and seven days to be exact) but, well, I do. I've just been super busy this whole year; my grandfather was in and out of the hospital for a long few months there, before passing away, and I certainly bit off more than I can chew in terms of classes, though I have been managing fairly well. And on top of that, I lost my password. Life sorta hates me. Haha.

Also, I changed my pen name from Feareth the Kitty to Strawberry Alacrity, just cause I'm awesome like that.

However, this isn't my life story, it's an overly angsty fanfic :D

So I've been wrapping up a few loose-ish ends in the story, before I move on to the next part. The plot itself essentially starts in the next chapter; These first chapters have taken an excruciatingly long time to move into the plot (though if you can squint, you can detect it in Chapter 6. Not number, Chapter.) but I have the rest of the story planned out fairly well.

I also went back and edited Tashia's character again in, uh, 'the break up scene'. I just couldn't find any motivation for her to act like she did here, when she was sort of passive like that before.

So without further adieu, Chapter 8 :D

* * *

_**Blood Knights**_

_Chapter VIII  
_

Nalannai was lying still, curled into herself, in the massive chair that dwarfed her small frame. Her eyes were dull and unfocused as she stared into the blank wall, yet her hands were white as she pulled her knees tightly to her chest. For a moment she sat like this, before tears spilled out of her eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time this morning. Her body ached, and she just felt helpless and empty and filthy. Not physically dirty, mind you, but mentally, morally, like there was a giant stain on her that would never go away.

The realities of marriage- or rather, the consummation of it- hadn't fully hit her until Brolius had taken her to his home, and led her to a bedroom. More accurately, their bedroom. Once there, she panicked, as he slid his lips over hers and clutched her tight. She had fought and fought, but to no avail. There was no other word for it, she decided, watching tears drip down onto her red silk robe, other than rape.

Legal rape, she supposed though, her mouth twisting into something that vaguely resembled a bitter smile, because a woman does have her duties. Remembering the events that had transpired just made her feel sick again, but she had long since emptied the contents of her stomach into the cold stone basin in the adjacent washroom. Now, all she could manage was dry heaves that made her knees shake and her body tremble.

Part of her desperately wished this was but a dream, a horrible nightmare that had permeated her sleep, but there was no avoiding what had happen. And there was no one to save her now, not Itheal, not Aleinia, not Vayria, not Mathus...

She began to shake with sobs when she thought Mathus. How sweet and wonderful he had always been, the gentle way he kissed her, how broken he looked yesterday in the chapel. She couldn't stand to see that broken look on his face, his eyes devoid of his normal cheer, replaced by what she could only describe as emptiness.

Once her tears had finally begun to dry, and she attempted to regain control of her emotions and even repress them, she had resigned herself to staring at the wall again. She didn't even look up when the door to the bed chamber creaked open and a dark haired figure stepped in.

"Are you going to lie there your entire life?" A crisp woman's voice asked, and Nalannai glanced at her briefly, before turning back to the wall.

"If I only could." She whispered. The woman made a dismissive noise.

"Then you, my dear, are a colossal waste of space." She stated pleasantly. Nalannai's eyes narrowed as she turned her head to glare at this intrusive stranger.

"What do you know?" She snapped, anger rearing up in her. The woman smiled, lighting up her sharp feature.

"I knew there was something alive in there." she said, before leaning in. "I know because I went through the same thing." She breathed. Nalannai was shocked but before she could get a word in edgewise the woman had clapped, summoning a servant into the room. "Fill the bath, if you would." she glanced at Nalannai. "Believe me, it helps." She said, pulling her off the chair.

"Wh-who are you?" Nalannai stuttered, her eyes wide as she was shoved into the washroom.

"Me? Zalithe. I suppose it's Zalithe Dawnstar now, seeing as I'm married to that bastard, but I prefer my old war name, Zalithe the Night Blade. Make me sound a bit mysterious, doesn't it? Too bad I can't use it."

"Zalithe the Night Blade? As in one of the greatest rogues from Silvermoon?" Before Zalithe could answer, Nalannai shrieked as one of the servants pulled off her nightgown, and she jumped into the bubble-filled bath.

"People still remember me? So I do have a legacy!" She stopped for a moment. "Though I suppose a rogue should probably lie low... well, either way, it's not like I'll be returning to fight any time soon. Or ever, for that matter." she shrugged, and then pulled up a stool next to the bathtub. Nalannai looked at her strangely.

"Just making sure you don't try to drown yourself." She remarked cheerfully. "Helynia tried to."

"Uh, don't worry, I won't." Nalannai finally said after a long moment of silence.

"Helynia said that too." Nalannai sighed and sank down so that the water came up to her chin.

"So," Zalithe began, resting her chin on her hands. "What's this about this Mathus boy?"

Nalannai let out a long sigh. "Long story short, I loved him, my parents wouldn't hear about him marrying me, now I'm married to Dawnstar, and I probably won't ever see him again."

"Sounds heartbreaking." Zalithe said, and Nalannai bridled at her dismissive tone. Before she could protest, however, Zalithe grinned. "But not everything has to end at the door to the manor." She said, her voice almost devious sounding. Nalannai glanced at her, perplexed, as Zalithe stood up, wiping her hands on her dress and strode to the door, seemingly convinced that she wouldn't drown herself at the current moment. She stopped briefly at the doorway.

"What, did you think I would give up on Salian because of a little ring? I'm a rogue, hun, we don't follow rules we don't like." Nalannai blinked. Are you suggesting adultery? she was about ask, but Zalithe cut her off yet again- it was becoming a habit. "The strawberry soap smells rather good. You oughta try it." She suggested, before breezing out the door, leaving a shocked Nalannai in her wake.

---------

On her day off, a few days after Nalannai's wedding, Aleinia could be found in the market in Silvermoon, examining a loaf of bread and frowning over the price. After a bit of a haggling for the rest of the food in her basket, she sighed, reluctantly handing over a few more silvers than she would have liked. However, another hand dropped money into the vendor's hand before she could manage to draw the necessary coin from her coin purse. Surprised, she glanced up to see a harshly beautiful woman leaning against the wall of the stall, brushing her short brown hair behind her ears. Her blood ran cold for a moment. Tashia scared her in the best of times, from the few times she had met her, and from the look in her eyes, Aleinia decided she would quite like to run right about now. There was something about warlocks that unsettled her, and Tashia more than most.

Aleinia put on a shaky smile, and offered her the coins she was about to give to the vendor, but Tashia held up a hand, refusing it.

"It was my pleasure to pay," She said, smiling in her cold sort of way. Aleinia returned the coins to the pouch at her waist, and watched Tashia curiously as she stared at her. Once she had drawn the drawstring tight, Tashia threw an arm around Aleinia's shoulder, causing the younger girl to flinch. "However, I would love it if you'd walk with me, and we can have a nice...talk." The fingernails digging into the flesh on her arm through the cotton shirt gave Aleinia no choice other than to nod and follow.

"So, I understand that you and Itheal have been , for lack of better word, courting these last few days?" Aleinia blushed and nodded, ducking her head as her face warmed up. However, remembering who she was talking to, she immediately covered up any trace of emotion resulting from the warmth that bloomed in her stomach.

"Er, I suppose you could say that." She finally agreed. Tashia let out a long, drawn out sigh, as though she were reluctant to say her next words. And, upon hearing them, Aleinia wished she hadn't.

"He doesn't really like you, you know." She said shortly. "I hate to be so blunt, but I just thought it would be beneficial for you to realize it." Aleinia gaped at her, feeling her heart plummet about three feet.

"What?" She finally stuttered out. Tashia shrugged.

"Oh, sure, he likes you as a student and his Blood Knight comrade, but...well, just not like a lover, if you know what I mean." Aleinia bit her lip and turned to the side, not sure whether to believe her words or not. On the one hand, this was Tashia she was talking to; there was little honestly that ever rolled off her tongue. On the other hand, part of her had felt the exact same way Tashia was talking about; that she was simply Itheal's student and nothing more, and that she was deluding herself that there could ever be anything there.

"I'm sure you remember that day, a few weeks ago, when Itheal and I had a bit of a spat?" Tashia continued, and Aleinia nodded cautiously. "Well last night, we sort of...made up." She tittered; the girlish expression seemed out of place on the older elf, but Aleinia was feeling to sick to notice. Feeling a bit dizzy, she could only swallow and nod as Tashia squeezed her shoulder, saying;

"So, I just thought that it might in everyone's best interests if you could simply let it drop. Do we understand each other?"

Aleinia meant to return home right then and there, but instead remained rooted to the ground, watching the scene unfolding before her. The warlock ran up to a man exiting a shop, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him hard. Noticing the features she knew so well as being Itheal, she stumbled back a few feet, before taking off past them, towards Murder Row.

-----

Itheal wasn't quite sure what had just transpired, but he was adamantly positive that it was nothing good. He had just stepped out of a shop after buying a necklace for Alei- because girls liked jewelry, didn't they? It was his first time pursuing a relationship with a fellow paladin, but he had common sense enough to know at least that- when Tashia had forcefully kissed him. Sputtering, and he had pushed her off, with a remark of "What the hell are you doing?" while she had simply smirked, replying that she was ruining his life. He was confused for a moment, but when Alei ran by like the devil himself was on her heels, everything had fallen into place. The glower he had sent towards Tashia was positively murderous, but he didn't pause to berate her before he wiped his mouth and ran after Aleinia.

She was fast, faster than him, but the heavy basket had slowed her down, and after a chase through twisting alleys, he finally caught up to her, cornering her against a wall, trapping her, his hands splayed on the wall on either side of her. For a few moments they remained like that, breathing heavily, as she glared up at him, hurt showing through her eyes. The basket clattered to the ground beside her, as she tried to duck out from underneath his arms, but he didn't allow her to.

"Let me go." She hissed, but he shook his head.

"Not ... until I explain." He responded, winded from the chase. She laughed bitterly.

"Explain what, Itheal? That you're a lying, manipulating man-whore?" Shocked, he stepped back for a moment, allowing her to squirm away from him. She didn't allow him to speak before launching into an angry rant.

"Was that really always the case, Itheal? Was I really just another girl for you to chase? Do I really mean that little to you?" She yelled, before kneeling down to pick up the fruit that had rolled out of the basket, ducking her head to hide the tears rolling down her cheeks, before standing back up. He took a tentative step towards her.

"Alei, I didn't..." He began to say, but she cut him off abruptly.

"Oh, don't make it worse by fucking lying about it. We all know that you're far too much of an egotistical brat to simply stick to one damn woman. You have to have everything right?" She snorted. "Well, I know all your other girls must have just accepted that in the past, but I'm not them Itheal, and you might as well get that through your thick skull right here and now. I'm not going to roll over and praise every aspect of your being and serve you." She spat, crying in earnest, though her voice was no less angry. Itheal attempted another step towards her, but she stopped him.

"J-just don't, Itheal." She said, backing up. "Just leave me alone and don't ever talk to me again." she finished coldly before running away, leaving him alone in the dark alleyway.

* * *

Oh gosh, Mathus didn't even show up D:

Zalithe did though, and she is absolutely one of my favorite characters to write, along with Mathus and Darthen (who will also appear sometime soon). Angry dialogue is failcake? I did sort of gloss over what happened with Alei and Itheal, but I really wanted to get on to LA PLOT. BECAUSE AS OF NOW, BLOOD KNIGHTS HAS NONE. ROFLCOPTER.

Haha, anyway, review maybeplease?

((and I mentioned Helynia in the chapter; I would just like to clarify that she is dead. Like six feet under dead, and murdered dead, though having her be a zombie could be lulzy.))


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